This article is part of Mochi’s fall 2024 issue on Resilience, redefined as “finding agency in adversity and fighting for radical change.” We highlight the strength of individuals and communities and their courage in dismantling systems of injustice. Our hope is that you will feel the strength pulsing through these stories and that you also are inspired to pair resilience with actions that lead to real, necessary, and revolutionary change.
Growing up, the Honorable Judge Pahoua Lor, California’s first female Hmong judge, straddled two cultures, creating what she describes as a “truly Hmong American experience.” At home, modesty reigned supreme. Tank tops required thick straps — if allowed at all — and bikinis were strictly forbidden. When elders visited, Lor and her sisters were expected to serve water and food, while the men sat waiting to be served, the standard in traditional Hmong hospitality.
Yet, behind closed doors, Lor’s parents pushed for progress. Unlike in many Hmong households, her brothers were assigned chores, expected to cook and clean alongside their sisters. Her parents encouraged education and college aspirations for all their children, regardless of gender.
This delicate balance between tradition and progress mirrors the larger story of the Hmong people in America. Lor’s childhood experiences were shaped by a history that began long before her birth, in the mountains of Laos.
During the Vietnam War, the Hmong found themselves caught in the crossfire. As staunch allies of the United States, they fought in the CIA’s covert “Secret War” in Laos. When the war ended and communist forces took control in 1975, the Hmong people faced severe persecution. Thousands fled, many ending up in refugee camps in Thailand before being resettled in countries like the United States.
Hmong immigrants arrived with little more than their cultural heritage and a hope for a better future. Families like Lor’s found themselves navigating a new…
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