About a century ago, America was referred to as a “melting pot,” suggesting that all immigrants would at some point “melt together” and disregard their cultural identities. By the mid-20th century, the term “mosaic,” emphasizing the value of the country’s heterogeneous cultures, emerged and became a more fitting metaphor for America. Math teacher Khoa Dao’s Vietnamese identity makes up one piece of the mosaic.
When Dao was only six months old, his parents left Vietnam due to the aftermath of the Fall of South Vietnam or the Fall of Saigon on April 30, 1975 — a day known as Black April — to seek opportunities for a better future. 2025 marks the 50th anniversary of Black April, during which almost two million Vietnamese had to leave their country and seek refuge in other countries.
His immigration experience to America led him to be deeply involved in Asian American advocacy efforts. One of the first clubs Dao joined during his college years at the University of California, Berkeley was the Asian Pacific Islander Recruitment and Retention Center, which focuses on helping underrepresented or undocumented Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders receive higher education. This opportunity helped Dao understand and connect with his Asian identity.
“(The Asian American advocacy efforts) really helped me figure out who I was as a person and what I stand for,” he said. “Going through college, I was very proud to be Asian American.”
As Dao further explored his identity as a Vietnamese American, he decided to join the Vietnamese Student Association during his last semester of college.
“That’s when I created a mentorship program (in college) to bring people together, learn more about what it means to be Vietnamese American and learn about their identity,” he said. “It was crafted in the image and the struggles of what I went through as a student.”
He recalled his college years as a time where he conversed with many people to understand what it meant to be Vietnamese. As Dao went through that discovery, he wanted to help those who were in the same situation as him and share the message he learned.
“If you’re feeling like the second or third generation where it’s like, ‘I’m so far removed from Black April, and I’m so far removed from Vietnam,’ (this mentorship) is the opportunity to reclaim some of that,” he said.
Through his exploration of Vietnamese culture in college, Dao has felt proud to be Vietnamese American. Particularly, he values the ability to speak Vietnamese in a place with not many opportunities to do so.
“Whenever I run into a Vietnamese person who I’m able to speak Vietnamese to, people are always pleasantly surprised, and it brings this kinship together,” he said. “People are a lot more welcoming and nicer to me. Whenever I can speak the language, it’s like, ‘Oh, you’re one of us. It’s rare to see somebody in your generation be able to speak Vietnamese.’”
He feels grateful for his parents’ efforts, such as being enrolled in a Vietnamese language program near his home growing up and only speaking Vietnamese at home, to preserve the Vietnamese culture in the household.
“(My parents) only spoke Vietnamese, even though they understood English,” Dao said. “I remember trying to speak English at home when I was really young, and they were just like, ‘No, unacceptable. You only speak Vietnamese in this household.’”
Dao’s parents have viewed Black April as a period in their history to reflect upon how that event brought them to America.
“My dad was a lieutenant colonel for the South Vietnamese Army during the war, so he and his children would not have any opportunities in Vietnam,” Dao said. “So I was doomed before I was even born.”
Dao described one of the unique challenges of his generation growing up to be trying to understand and navigate a new, unfamiliar system of the new country with their parents. He recalled his experience at the Social Security Administration office when he was young, and how he was responsible for figuring out the system.
“I remember going to different offices growing up,” he said. “The one I remember the most is the SSI office for low-income people, and I had no idea what I was doing there. It wasn’t easy, knowing that my parents were always trying to make sure that we got all of our government benefits.”
These early experiences navigating new systemss haped Dao’s understanding of his identity as part of an immigrant family. In fact, he identifies himself as the 1.8 generation, closer to the second generation than the first.
“The first generation is (the case in which) they grew up in the home country (and were) adults when they immigrated,” Dao said. “1.5 (generation) is (where they) kind of grew up with both (elements of first and second generation). But 1.8 is (where) you’re almost like second generation, but you technically were born in the home country.”
Although Dao and his family encountered difficulties, such as learning to adapt to a completely new environment instead of their home country, due to Black April, he views the event positively.
“This was a new opportunity for so many of us to go into the diaspora and do all the cool things that we’re doing,” he said. “Every time I hear about a Vietnamese person doing something cool, I’m like, representation matters.”
This perception of Dao regarding Black April has enabled him to consider the month of April in a unique way as well.
“I look at April as ‘We are here now in the diaspora, we’re able to take advantage of the opportunities that we’ve been given here in America,” he said. “So, I’m happy that, as a community, we’re able to land back on our feet.”
