After graduating from Harvard with my Masters, I became the first American of Vietnamese descent to be chosen as Presidential Management Fellow – a selective program for aspiring federal government executives. A few years later, back in Massachusetts, I became the first Vietnamese loan officer at First National Bank in Boston, after completing the bank’s training program. It was intense, but I succeeded and, in two years, I was promoted to assistant vice-president. Then my boss said to me, “You have to be American to be successful in banking.
I was stunned. Wasn’t being an American hard work? I was also scared. He had just made me understand that I was not part of the team and that I was expendable. I was afraid he would fire me right away, but I had to ask: what did it mean to be an American? He just repeated what he had already said.
Some colleagues told me that my boss thought my English was not good enough (I had an accent) and that the bank’s corporate customers would not respond well to a non-white person. I was transferred to another department, in effect starting over as the people I started with continued to progress.
Part of the American dream is owning a house, so when my wife and I bought a house in 2006 in the Squantum neighborhood of Quincy, a middle class community near the bay, we felt like we had made it. We were surely Americans now. But the paint had barely dried on our house when it was swollen. I would like to say that things have improved, but being set on fire remains a regular occurrence. Sometimes young people knock on our door shouting “USA, USA” and “Go back to China”. Dog droppings were deposited on my lawn. Ours is the only house in the neighborhood targeted in this way, and since we’re also the only Asian Americans in the neighborhood, it’s hard not to think that race is the reason.
I have always cherished the American form of government, so I was delighted in 2015 when I was asked to serve as Assistant Secretary for Business Development and International Trade to Governor Charlie Baker. To my knowledge, I was the first Asian American appointed assistant secretary in our state government. This time, I thought, I had truly achieved the American dream. In August 2016, when Massachusetts hosted a conference of New England Governors and Eastern Canadian Premiers, I accompanied Baker to meetings and then escorted him back to State House. I proudly wore a State House pin, issued by the governor’s office, on my lapel. Yet that afternoon, as I left State House alone, I was arrested, twice, by state employees asking me why I was there. I didn’t want to do a scene, so I showed both my ID and my business card before they apologized and let go.
These incidents are only a small sample of what I have faced, despite my level of education and accomplishments. I want the members of the Asian community to know that they are not alone and that we have as legitimate a claim to this blessed land as any other group. In the American journey in search of freedom, opportunity, and happiness, we are all in the same boat, but Asian Americans may have built this boat as well. Numerous DNA studies have shown that the ancestors of Native Americans came from East Asia.
Asian Americans should be recognized as part of the fabric of this country – 90% of transcontinental railroad workers were Chinese – but we are constantly being left out, denied by the whites, blacks and browns who bring us to the table. consider them not “American”.
Here in Boston, watch Fields Corner. When I arrived in the city 40 years ago, some thought it was an undesirable place. Recently, it was designated as the cultural district of Little Saigon. A few years ago, the American Planning Association called it one of America’s 10 Great Neighborhoods. What changed? One of the factors is that thousands of Vietnamese immigrants have moved here and helped transform it into a vibrant community.
America is our home. We cannot give in to bad behavior and racism or accept bigotry as the norm. We need to work together in our communities to speak out and break down ignorant stereotypes. I am optimistic that shedding light on what many of us have suffered and will likely continue to endure will lead to improved treatment for Asian Americans. After being harassed the last time, neighbors gave us a yellow rose bush. I planted it in front of the house and I still enjoy its flowers.
The dark shadow of Asian invisibility received more light. I still believe in the American dream, although apparently I still have some work to do before I realize it.
Nam Pham is a director in the Massachusetts Department of Transportation. Send your comments to [email protected].
