I have lived in a rural community in Montana for most my life, and as a Vietnamese person I have missed being surrounded by people with the same heritage. My father came to America at the end of the war where he grew up trying to assimilate into the new and strange culture of Michigan. He successfully graduated college and went on to work as a tax auditor, although hundreds of miles away from his brothers and sisters, who went on to live and work in California. Despite the physical distance, he did his best to inculcate important principles of being Vietnamese. We honor our family and being the oldest meant I have the responsibility of taking care of my younger brother. Many of my fellow students throughout my primary and secondary education did not totally understand Vietnamese culture. While most people were accepting, being Vietnamese-American required me to take on the role of being cultural ambassador as well. Often, and still to this day, I am asked to explain the origin and pronunciation of my name. Sometimes people ask more details about where my family is from. Seldom, a veteran may share their involvement in the Vietnam war as to establish some kind of rapport. Overall, people are generally kind and any sort of discrimination I have faced has either been childish in nature or very tongue-in-cheek. In Montana it is very uncommon to be Vietnamese, and there are no resources to assist Vietnamese people get in touch with their heritage. Much less address access to financial aid or other issues which affect Vietnamese people at greater rates than other ethnicities. Often, in Montana, I may be confused for an Indigenous person and I receive primary care at a clinic which is funded by grants to address health care for Indigenous people. I go there because they are better equipped to address health issues related to minorities. As for accessing financial aid, I just don't have the same generational knowledge other Americans have. My parents were unable to direct me to appropriate scholarships for me, nor did they have connections within any colleges to help me navigate my pursuit of higher education. Being without other Vietnamese students, my high school advisors did not have any advice for me in searching for additional aid. Much of my initial searches for heritage related scholarships yielded few which apply to me. At times I wonder what my experience would have been growing up if there were more resources available for Vietnamese people. Would I be more empowered by seeing people care about my cultural identity? Maybe I would have become too proud and my hubris would have caused me to not be as diligent in my pursuit of collegiate education. Regardless, my Vietnamese heritage has made my educational experience uniquely my own and has made me resilient to any obstacles that may come my way.

In high school, I was told that I should try a 12-step meeting. I didn't listen, not after being arrested, institutionalized, and practically homeless. It wasn't until I started going to a local Narcotics Anonymous meeting to get a free meal once or twice a week that I thought I might need to change something. For me, recovery is the lifelong, daily practice of trying to unlearn what I learned while I was using and finding new ways to live life on life's terms. I am grateful today because I have put a few years between my last use and today. Now, each day recovery might be something different. It could be simply realizing each day clean is a good day, calling someone in recovery, going to a meeting, or just some form of self-care. Recently, there have been some new people coming to the meetings I chair, and I look forward to helping them find out what recovery means to them.