On Complex Children’s Literature: A Conversation between Hà Dinh and Cathy Linh Che

Cathy Linh Che: Why don’t you start first? Is that okay?

Ha Dinh: Yes, I’m fine with that.

CLC: Tell me a little bit about yourself and your inspiration for your children’s book.

HD: My name is Ha Dinh, and I live in Texas. I’ve been an elementary teacher for 16 years, and I’m Vietnamese American. I came to America in 1989 as a refugee with my family. We left Vietnam, and we lived in a Philippine refugee camp. After ten months, we were sponsored by Catholic Charities. We moved to Louisville, Kentucky, where I lived most of my life. I went to school, graduated, and moved down to Texas to be with my husband. I’m the founder of Happy Days in First Grade teaching blog, where I hope to inspire teachers all around the world with fun and engaging hands-on activities. And I’m also the author of Where Wildflowers Grow!

CLC: Wonderful. Thank you so much for sharing all of your history. Can you talk a little bit more about your inspiration for your children’s book? Congratulations!

HD: Thank you so much. So I’ve always had this story in my heart. I left the refugee camp when I was five years old, and I just remember glimpses of things that happened at the camp that stayed with me. And one of those memories that stayed with me was when we left the camp on departure day. I witnessed how much my siblings struggled with leaving camp because of the relationships and friendships that they built, how loved they were loved by their friends, and how that love was reciprocated. I never felt like I lost anything major in my life when I was at camp, so their feelings were a little foreign to me. I grieved the fact that we just kept moving. In my mind, we just kept moving. I just didn’t really understand why. Everyone was telling me that America is great. I had no understanding of what America was. I just understood that it was better because that’s what everybody was telling me. And so I just went along and just kept those memories in my heart until when I came to America.

The first time I ever felt like I lost someone was when my best friend in first grade moved to Massachusetts. Witnessing her family moving their boxes into the truck and then leaving, made me feel like the whole world was just going to shatter. I was like, I get it. Those feelings stayed with me, and I understood now what it means to lose friends and lose someone that you love so much so suddenly. You have no control over it. Growing up in the Southside in Louisville, Kentucky, where almost all of us were refugees, I didn’t feel like my story was unique. Special but not unique. Everyone just seemed to have the same experiences, but as I grew up and as I shared my story of how I came to America, it seemed to be very fascinating to other people. And then I knew that writing was the path for me, in addition to being a teacher, to inspire children in a different way.

So I just kept it all in my heart and went on and pursued my career in education. I had my bachelor’s in English and got my master’s in the art of teaching elementary education, with the understanding that one day I will eventually go back to writing. I just didn’t know when. When I started having my own children, and then when I lost my mom, it all dawned on me that the moment was now. If I didn’t document and write down these memories for my own children, they, too, would not have the opportunity to understand where I came from, how we got here, and our family history. I also wanted the kids who came to America, all the kids who lived in our apartment complex, all the kids I grew up with, all the Vietnamese American children I went to school with and went to church with, to be reflected too. I felt like this was our moment. It was our moment to share our stories and be proud of where we came from and how we got here, so then the next generation can also feel proud of the journey that we’ve all taken to be here.

CLC: What a moving story. It sounds like this story was motivated with you having an eye towards the next generation. You had this experience as a five-year-old, and without your mother to tell that story to your kids, you had to be that person. Does that sound accurate?

HD: When I lost her, I just kept coming back to the pictures of when we were in the refugee camp and when we first came over to America. It just became so apparent and so important to me that these memories aren’t lost. This time, this special setting, and this story of how many people came together to help us to lay down the groundwork for this future that we didn’t even know could be possible. I didn’t want all the hard work to be in vain and be lost in history. This was really the life story that I always wanted to write. I finally got to write it, aso it’s really a dream come true. And I feel like it’s taken me full circle.

CLC: I think children’s books are an amazing way to help personal and political histories have a new life. You impart this story so that your kids will have a sense of where they came from.

HD: Growing up, I always heard my mom and dad talk about the war through their eyes. The books that I encountered at the library and at my school were always from the perspective of adults. It never accounted for how the war affected children. It affected us so much and still affects us today. We are still unpacking all of this history and family trauma. We’re unpacking for ourselves and we’re unpacking for our family. And we’re helping our aging parents unpack all of the things that they had experienced but didn’t have the space to feel to talk about because life was so busy. It was like, we kept on moving, kept on moving, chasing that American Dream. They never had time to sit down and unpack things so that they could actually move on.

CLC: You mentioned trauma. This is a very different story from the ones I’ve read by Vietnamese American authors about refugee camps. This story is rooted primarily in joy. Even if there is the sadness of leaving, the vast majority of the story is about the joyful friendships that were formed in the refugee camps. Was this a conscious decision to focus on joy rather than sadness and melancholy, which often are big parts of the Vietnamese American experience?

HD: When I was querying this story for agents, the one feedback I always got was that this is a very different take on the refugee experience. When we think of refugee camps, we think of these images from TV, of children crying. That’s not to discount the trauma that comes with being a refugee, but this is a different perspective. That’s why it was so important for me to write it from a child’s perspective and to write in a way that honors this place and time that we don’t usually hear of. Even with the traumas of war, children will try their best to find joy and happiness. That’s their way of coping. For them, it’s a bridge for finding hope and happiness for the future. 

For the young character in my book, life in Vietnam was really hard. But at the refugee camp, everybody was together. Almost everything was given and passed out. We stood in line to get our food. Mom and dad didn’t have to hustle as much. They weren’t as stressed out. We all got to go to English classes. My parents got to go to cultural and career orientations and things like that. Even though we had limited electricity at night, and it was dim in the bunkhouse, we were happy. We would sing and enjoy being together and with the hope of one day having our turn to come to America. That hope carried us through. As a child, I remembered that this was the most important thing, which was family. Everybody is happy, everybody is safe, and everybody seems to be very hopeful. I wanted to really focus on that hope and that joy found at camp and really bring that to wherever we were going next.

CLC: My parents were also refugees in the Philippines, but at a different time in 1975 and 1976. My friend the filmmaker Christopher Radcliff and I created a video installation called Appcalips about their lives as refugees, which includes information about how they were hired to play extras in the film Apocalypse Now. The audience often expects the piece to say: This is so exploitative; the parents must be doubly traumatized. But that is not the story they tell. They tell me that they were very bored in the refugee camp and that they met a lot of friends. Filming was quite fun. My own expectations about what a refugee experience must be is oftentimes overturned by first-person narratives. What do you hope that readers, young and old, will gain after reading your book?

HD: I hope that the younger generation will look at this book and have an appreciation of how we all came to America. My goal is to use this book as a platform for and a bridge for families to start having these conversations about their own journeys. Was it sad? Was it hopeful? Even if you’re not from the Vietnamese American community, there’s so much to learn from this. My students read this at my book launch with me, and they just loved it so much. They’re reading it on Youtube. I’m sure they’re looping it on Youtube. That’s why we’re getting so many views (laughs). 

But their parents and my friends who have children have reached out and said, “tTank you so much for this book because it really opened their eyes. They’re asking really important questions, like, “What are refugees? Why is she so sad leaving, but her parents are so happy? What is it in America that they’re coming for? Why did they leave Vietnam?” This book is opening up so many opportunities for families to have such important conversations with each other. And so that’s what I’m really grateful for. And it’s important to see my own culture reflected. We’re taking the power back. We’re using our own power to help the next generation see themselves and feel reflected.

CLC: Thank you. That’s so beautiful.

HD: Is it okay that I ask you some questions now?

CLC: Yes.

HD: Can you tell us about yourself and your inspiration for your book?

CLC: My name is Cathy Linh Che, and I’m the co-author of An Asian American A to Z: A Children’s Guide to Our History. I was born in Los Angeles. I grew up in a very diverse, multiracial neighborhood alongside a lot of Vietnamese refugees who had settled in Northeast LA. A touchstone connecting us is that I also grew up in a Catholic church. In Vietnamese, it’s Thiếu Nhi Thánh Thể, which translates as the Vietnamese Eucharistic Youth Society.

HD: It’s now “movement,” not “society” (laughs).

CLC: Starting at age 7, I grew up in that community. I was đoàn trưởng, president of the Long Beach chapter until I was 27. I grew up in Highland Park and moved to Long Beach when I was 10. There were also a lot of Vietnamese people. Highland Park was Mexican and Salvadoran American. And Long Beach was mixed in terms of Asian Americans: Vietnamese, Cambodian, Chinese, Pacific Islanders. There’s an array of Black folks as well. I grew up surrounded by lots of racial diversity. Even though my teachers read us multicultural literature, I didn’t learn very much about Asian American history. The only thing that I learned was the important history of the Japanese incarceration camps.

We were taught this part of history mainly because of activism during post-Japanese American Incarceration. Asian American activists demanded the addition of Japanese American incarceration to the curriculum. That is inspiring. I also wish that I could have learned more Asian American history. 

In my 30s, I became the executive director at Kundiman, which is an organization that nurtures Asian American writers. I learned how Asian American literature has its roots within the Asian American movement. I also learned about how the Vietnam War was a catalyst for Asian American organizing in the United States. I learned about the other moments of solidarities with other communities of color. Growing up, I learned about Cesar Chavez, but not Dolores Huerta who is a woman, or Larry Itliong, a Filipino American labor rights activist, who played an integral part in the victories achieved by the United Farm Workers of America.

Learning this history helped me find a place within the American narrative that was rooted much more in solidarity. It gave me a clearer sense of myself as a creative writer. Some of our first Asian American literature is inscribed on the walls of Angel Island, a detention center for Asian immigrants. The earliest publications of Asian American literature included poetry folios from writers of the Asian American movement. In 1968, student activists were the ones who came up with the name “Asian American.” All of this gave me a new narrative with which I could understand myself and my writing. 

I also read the book The ABCs of Black History by Rio Cortez. She’s a poet, too. That inspired me to write an Asian American history book that was accessible to children and to the adults reading to them. 

HD: I completely agree. Accessibility was one of the reasons that I was adamant about keeping this as a picture book. When I queried this as a picture book, there were agents who asked if I wanted to make this into a middle-grade book, like Inside Out, and Back Again? I love Thanhha Lai so much, but I wanted this to be in the picture book space so that it is accessible to the little ones because those are the ones I work closely with. I wanted to write a book that I could bring into my classroom and say, “Let me show you something.” I wanted something inviting. It’s easier to digest, easier to absorb, and easier for the children to relate toward their own lives. I don’t want to go off-course, but did you notice Thiếu Nhi Thánh Thể in my book?

CLC: Yes, at the end, you have pictures of Thiếu Nhi Thánh Thể.

HD: It’s also in the story itself. On the day they’re moving, my wonderful illustrator Bao Luu originally had the siblings folding their shirts. Instead, I asked to have them hold their khăn instead. It’s these scarves that members of the Vietnamese Eucharistic Youth Society wear, which tells you their age-group. My brother is holding a blue khăng for thiếu nhi, and my sister is holding the yellow khăng for nghĩa sĩ. My sisters actually helped start the first chapter in Louisville, Kentucky. 

CLC: Wow, legends! (laughs)

HD: The interesting story is that they joined Thiếu Nhi Thánh Thể at camp. At the time, we were not Catholics. My parents were Buddhists, just by culture and tradition. They didn’t really practice any faith one way or the other. But my mom did pray. Every day she would walk past a church and she would pray to Mary. She said if we ever get a chance to go to America, she would encourage us to follow the faith. So, when we came to camp, there was Thiếu Nhi Thánh Thể, and my siblings started playing with those kids. They wanted to join Thiếu Nhi Thánh Thể, and the kids said, okay, but you have to be Catholic. So they went home and said, “Mom, Dad, we want to be Catholic.” And my mom said, “Yes, if this is something that you choose for yourself, and that you’ve decided to be faithful to this for the rest of your life. If yes, we encourage that.” So my older siblings were baptized at camp. My other sister and I didn’t get baptized until we were in Louisville, Kentucky. 

So many rich and wonderful memories of camp were through things they did with their friends through Thiếu Nhi. I also met my husband through Thiếu Nhi, and our whole family is in Thiếu Nhi. I love that you and I have that connection. It shows how faith intertwines with culture and intertwines with history, with how our community was built, and how I grew up in that community. I wanted to represent all of these things. Even though this is just a picture book, I tried to pull in all aspects of my life, everyone who has ever impacted me, or influenced me to become the person that I am, and so I knew I had to include Thiếu Nhi.

CLC: That’s so fascinating. My brothers and their partners were also in Thiếu Nhi, and they had met each other at younger stages in their lives. That’s what I love about your book. There’s something very specific. Not every person who comes to the U.S. will have come through Thiếu Nhi, but you thought to yourself, This is my story, so I want to imbue it with that.

HD: And I don’t know if there will be another opportunity to bring in Thiếu Nhi because it’s so specific! I like to put Easter Eggs in my stories. My illustrator was so gracious. When I was reading your book, I was fascinated. I’ve never come across a book like that, just learning about history in this impactful but simplified way. Seeing refugees and immigrants on the very first page. And seeing that solidarity. It’s not a regular A-to-Z when you would assume that, like, “K” would be for “Korean” or “V” for “Vietnamese.” It’s not that. You go deep. You make a conscious decision to not just feature, but educate. Can you talk more about that process? How did you choose what was going into your book?

CLC: Thank you so much. It means a lot to me that as an educator in the first grade space for sixteen years, you read my book and commented on it so positively. 

My co writer Kyle Lucia Wu and I felt very strongly that we wanted to represent Asian America as widely and fully as we can. Americans often have an image of what Asian American is: upper middle to upper class, East Asian professionals. But that’s not all of us. That’s certainly not my story. 

Though the Asian American Movement is a political story, I connect personally to it, too. The movement originated in California, where I was born and raised. I’m very proud of being from California, and I’m proud of being born with this as my root. 

Asian Americans are indebted to the civil rights movements that arose during that time. It is very entwined with the Black Power movement, very entwined with the civil rights movement, very entwined with the anti Vietnam War movement, with the women’s liberation movement, with disability rights, and gay rights. All of the different intersections that we are thinking about today, in terms of race, gender, sexuality, and disability, were present and demanding greater equity about fifty years ago, during the time when my parents were living in Vietnam and experiencing the imperialist power grab by the United States. And not just by the United States, but all of the world players involved. We wanted to begin with civil rights and our indebtedness to Black civil rights leaders and move through the recognition that there are a lot of Asian American identities that have been historically excluded, or even buried. We wanted to move spaces that have not been written about into the center.

We wanted to highlight the origin story of the Asian American movement, a coalitional, solidarity-based movement that could not have existed without the leadership of civil rights leaders across the country. 

The book calls for inclusivity and solidarity, especially because Asian Americans are used as a wedge group. The model minority narrative is everywhere you look, and that’s a big part of what we were trying to undo. The book was born from our hunger to learn what had not been available to us. We wanted to share what we had been able to learn along the way. Obviously, there’s so much that we can still learn, but we’re hoping that it is the beginning of something that other people will step into. 

HD: Yes, that’s what I appreciated from reading this. It’s the understanding that so many communities worked so hard to create what we know of as Asian America today. There wasn’t always this coalition or this self-recognition of a collective group of people. Now there is. For our children, they’re used to hearing “Asian American” without understanding that this was not a thing not so long ago. If it weren’t for these amazing people who led the way and risked their lives, we wouldn’t have this right now.

CLC: Yes.

HD: What is the most important thing that you’ve learned from your parents’ generation?

CLC: I learned about the power of story. My parents’ education had been interrupted, primarily, by the war. My mom went up to 6th grade before her schoolhouse was destroyed. My dad graduated high school, but his graduation was interrupted from when he was ten to fourteen by bombs from French fighter planes and the battle between French and Japanese forces. My parents aren’t usually considered writers or artists. But when we’re around the dinner table, or when I’m cooking or watching TV with them, or at any point in our domestic lives, my parents are telling me about their lives in Vietnam and during the refugee camp and the aftermath. They’re amazing storytellers, and they’re amazing storytellers together. It taught me about the power of story for giving me a sense of myself and the power of a collective story. It is much fuller to have two or more people providing different perspectives. 

This book was co-written with my co-worker Kyle Lucia Wu. I’m the daughter of Vietnamese refugees. Kyle is a biracial Chinese American whose dad is from a small town in New Jersey. The illustrator is Kavita Ramchandran, an Indian American woman who grew up in India. So we have lived through very different experiences. We’re all coming together to create a larger weave. The proliferation of Vietnamese American literature has arisen with our community’s knowledge of English and access to publishing houses, which my parents’ generation did not have.

The power of language, in shaping my sense of who I am and my sense of having a place, was imparted by that generation. Whenever I go to Vietnam, I’m very moved. I’m very struck by the power of collective storytelling. I went to Vietnam recently just to visit my auntie. I hadn’t been back in seven years. I attended a đám giỗ to celebrate my grandma’s passing. Those are annual events where you pass stories along to different generations. You meet new members of the family. There’s an eight month old you didn’t know before who gets introduced. I am somebody who many people have not met before, but I get introduced into the fold, so I become part of this collective family story that really has a long line extending backwards. With oral storytelling, a person doesn’t end with their death. They live on. They live on through our gathering spaces. You sit down, you eat, you drink beer. But the food sharing becomes like a big part of this communal storytelling experience that feels very much like my writer’s origin story.

HD: I can totally relate to that. At every opportunity, my parents would say, “Back in Vietnam…” That was how our conversations started. I was like, “No, not again. It’s the same story.” But the older I got, the more I thought, yes, the same story, but there’s something new this time. When you’re growing up, you just don’t think that it’s all that important. But then you realize, oh my goodness, they are truly passing down history to us. And time is of the essence. Nothing lasts forever. And the only way for us to understand where we came from and continue this tradition of passing down stories is to make a conscious decision every time we’re together. One thing I’ve learned from my parents is resilience. I think that that shows in the story: no matter what the circumstances are, we’ll just keep moving forward. 

My dad didn’t finish school. He stopped in 6th grade. The hardship of living in Vietnam with a single mom meant he had to sell toys in the street to help his family. My mom didn’t have the opportunity of a formal education. She grew up in a village and she would walk to her teacher’s house with a bag of rice as payment to learn how to read. The thing that’s helped me keep going, like you mentioned, is this importance of access. We have access to language and systems that were invisible to us when we came to America- liike the publishing world. I would have never imagined that one day, I would also be part of the publishing industry. I went to the library. I saw books. I held books. I loved books. I just didn’t know how to break into this world. We just knew that we needed to go to school. You just go to school and do your best. That’s going to help open doors. One of these days, I would knock on that door and see where that would take me. It’s amazing that there’s this proliferation of books coming out now, and that I can connect with so many Vietnamese American authors. For the longest time, I felt, “Where do I go with this? Who wants to take this story? Who would take a gamble on it?” But the Asian Americans who came before us showed that the general public does want to read these diverse stories. There is a hunger and a need for it. 

CLC: How did you find a home for your book? I was curious since I think there might be other people who have a children’s book in their hearts and would love to write one.

HD: I have this background in education and seem to always have this need to explain things (laughs). I have something on my blog called the “Author Life” series on how I got started in the industry. For me, it’s always about sharing knowledge and helping others find their path. It’s wild to me because I’ve carried this story in my heart for the longest time. Like, “I have a story about being a refugee in the Philippines. Does anybody care?” I was yelling out little bits, not knowing if anyone would ever care in this world. But when my mom passed away, it felt like it was now or never. So I gave myself one year because, being a mom and teacher and small business owner, my life is already super busy. Also, if I didn’t give myself a time limit, I don’t think my husband would be able to deal with me, because that’s all I would ever talk about.

So I did a lot of Googling and research, and I came across this publishing house. I submitted my story, and the publisher was very kind, and said that she really loved the story, but it wasn’t ready. She recommended me to enter this contest to be matched with a mentored author. On a whim, I did it. I was matched with an author who really helped me flesh out my story and polish it. I joined the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. On their Facebook page, I learned about this pitch contest on Twitter. So I worked on my pitch, and right before I went to school, I did the sign of the cross and was like, “Lord, if this is meant to be, let me know.” So I tweeted it and went to work. And then I started getting likes from agents who wanted to see my story. I received some passes and I took all of the feedback and just kept working on the story. Then one of the agents who liked the story, who is my agent now, signed me on. From there, we subbed the story. And the editor who ended up buying my book from auction was one that I met through the pitch contest. The path of how this book came to be was that every hand it fell into belonged to people who really loved it, and loved it for what it is, and not wanting to change it according to their perception of what it should be. They took the story as a picture book, and as a story of how people actually enjoyed living in the refugee camp. I feel grateful to have been a part of this journey.

CLC: Thanks so much for sharing that.  It’s a story of real heart and passion, and you’re not going to quit. Also, what I really love is there’s a lot of humility because along the way, there was rejection.

HD: There’s so much rejection in publishing. 

CLC: But also flags, if you look in the right place, that you’re on the right track. So, congratulations.

HD: One of the things I learned from publishing is that rejection is protection. When things fell through and I was rejected, I was like, no more, I’m done. But then I have to remind myself that it wasn’t a good fit, and it will be a good fit somewhere else. What was your process like in publishing this book?

CLC: Well, I never thought I would be an author. I loved writing, but publishing was what other people did. I like the architecture of poems together in a book, but to publish it—was that something I’m allowed to do? I was a school teacher, teaching 9th–12th grade at a public school. Kudos to teachers because it’s exhausting. Even as it’s rewarding, it’s depleting in different ways. So I ran off to an MFA program to study poetry some more. That’s when I learned how to send my book out to contests. I didn’t have an ego about it. I thought, this is an opportunity to get my book shaped and to improve upon it. So it took two years. The book came out, and I was so proud, so happy. It’s been nine years since that last book. 

Then, I saw my friend who is a poet publish a children’s book. That was inspiring. I thought that was something I could do eventually. I told my friend Kyle about this idea, that I don’t know when I’ll work on it, but it would be nice to write together. Then she later reached out, “I have this Google Doc. I have A to Z. I’ve brainstormed all the things that can go into each letter.” So she was off and running, and I was going to hold on for dear life and let myself be carried by her energy. That collaboration really helped because, at times when she had too much going on, I felt energetic, and the opposite would also be true. We really, in a beautiful way, carried each other through. She had a literary agent at the time who read it and loved it. She said it made her cry. We sent it out, and we wanted to find a home for our book that was going to understand its vision and not censor us. Especially with book banning right now. So we ended up with Haymarket Press. It’s an independent leftist press that really gets us politically. 

We’re both adult authors. She has published a novel, and I have published an adult poetry book. We wrote it the way we wanted to write it. We know that it has big words for children. But we felt that it was okay because it’s a book that’s meant to be shared between children and adults. It’s a multigenerational book. We did have somebody to read it for leveling, but we also made conscious decisions. Like, if the rhymes are really great, so we’re going to go for it. Our foray into children’s literature has been amazing because I love reading to children. Not only children, but I love reading in Vietnamese American spaces and Asian American spaces. These have been our most joyful audiences. It’s a dream come true. You get to face the kids in the audience who you wrote it for and see their eyes light up. You see their parents’ and their aunties’ and their teachers, and their eyes are lighting up, too! I get to see knowledge being passed on. 

HD: It’s so important to fill these spaces for children. This year, my book is part of my school’s library collection. So for my daughter who goes to school there, and my son who had just graduated from there, and my friends, and the other teachers there. It’s been a wonderful experience. And I’m so grateful for your book. To have it and share it with my own children and show them this rich history of solidarity.

CLC: Thank you so much. And I’m grateful for your book. My siblings have four children collectively, so I am always looking for books that will give them a sense of how they are and where they came from. It’s amazing to be in this space together and have our books in conversation.

HD: Thank you so much. I also have another book coming in 2025. It’s called A Jade Bracelet, and it’s based on my mom giving me my jade bangle. I feel like there’s a solidarity among Vietnamese girls growing up in the 90s with the jade bangles our moms gave us: feeling like I didn’t want to wear this, it’s too hard, and all of this squeezing. I was channeling all of that to write this story.

CLC: What a beautiful homage to your mother.

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An Asian American A to Z: A Children’s Guide to Our History
by Cathy Linh Che and Kyle Lucia Wu. Illustrated by Kavita Ramchandran
Haymarket Books, $18.95

Where the Wildflowers Grow
by Hà Dinh
Penguin Random House, $14.99

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