I am not just a lawyer. I am also a migrant who faced a dangerous journey to find freedom. My story begins with my family’s difficult past in Vietnam.

My grandfather served in the South Vietnamese army during the Vietnam War. Because of this, our family was always watched closely and treated unfairly. In the early 1980s, leaving Vietnam was illegal. My parents knew it was the only way for us to survive.

We couldn’t leave openly because our neighbors were watching us. So one late night, we quietly escaped and climbed onto small boats, hoping for a chance at freedom. This is why we are called “boat people.” We are brave souls who sailed on the sea and faced great dangers to find hope.

My father and siblings left years before my mother and I began our journey. I was just 6 years old and the journey felt very scary. My mother spent many nights searching for a boat, determined to find a way out. Finally, the day came. We hid in a dark hut with other migrants in the countryside. When the door opened, we all rushed into the night and ran for our lives to the waiting boat. Some were shot, some were caught, and not everyone could escape. The boat was too small for all of us.