My journey as a cultural broker

Part 1: A Mother’s Resilience: Building a Bridge Between Cultures and Systems

“You should stop speaking Vietnamese to your daughter,” the school professional told me. “It will just confuse her.” The professional went on to imply that I was taking things for granted and using tax dollars for my own child’s benefit.

My daughter, who is nonverbal, had been at school in the US for about two months at that point. As a single mom who was unfamiliar with the educational, medical, and social support systems in the US, I was feeling frustrated while navigating the system of care and support for my child.  I still struggle with balancing my cultural values while searching for services for my child with special needs. I don’t have a support network of extended family members here, as I would if I was still in Vietnam. 

But when the school professional said those words, I realized I needed to step up and help my own daughter, as well as other Vietnamese parents whose children have disability. I established a support group for Vietnamese-speaking parents of children with special needs, called the Vòng Tay Cha Mẹ Việt (The Circle of Vietnamese Parents). Armed with my personal and professional cultural experiences, and my newly gained knowledge of the US disability service systems, I became a culture broker: a connector and negotiator between the Vietnamese immigrant community, and the system of social support available to them here in Boston.

Part 3: From isolation to empowerment

Many Vietnamese families have been isolated from the community due to a perceived social stigma, cultural difference, or language barrier. Culturally, these parents do not know that the system can help. When parents reach out to me, their stories may be very complicated, requiring intensive support in multiple areas, from medical and educational to social support. A few families have contacted me more than 150 times over the course of one year, both in person, or on the phone or via email.

Communicating with schools and participating in school activities is often not part of Asian culture. Many of these families have high expectations for their children, but they don’t expect a child with a disability to be independent and to work. It’s been satisfying to see some of the parents who attend my support group get more involved in their children’s education. Waiting for a child to talk without seeking speech therapy is common among Vietnamese families. With help from our group, some parents have sought services at an earlier age. Many have attended as many training sessions as possible, to become better educated about the system and make informed decisions in the course of advocating for their beloved child. These are positive steps, all growing out of opportunities to share our parenting experiences with others who share our road.

Part 5: Catalyzing change

In addition to providing direct support to families, I have been a guest speaker at Lesley University, Boston University, and UMass Boston. In my talks there, I’ve educated both undergraduate and graduate students about Vietnamese cultural values, perceptions about disability, and communication style. In this way, I hope that these students will become more culturally responsive to families they serve in the future. 

I also collaborate with researchers to document culturally and linguistically diverse parents’ experiences with their children’s IEP process, healthcare access, and insurance access, either through focus groups or in-person interviews.  As a result of language barriers, many parents don’t learn about support systems. My colleagues at the Federation for Children with Special Needs and I are addressing some of these language access issues.  For example, although some translated documents are available on state disability websites, they are often not understandable due to the poor quality of translation. Providing better translations makes these documents more accessible and useful to families.