My Refugee Journey: A Legal Path to America
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My dad, family helper, older siter, mom, and me.My only baby picture of me as a baby being held by my mother.
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When we escaped Laos, I was only 6-7 years old—but the journey that followed is etched into my memory. It wasn’t just a journey across borders; it was a long, deliberate process that required legal steps, documentation, and an unwavering commitment to doing everything the right way.
Our journey began at a temple, where we spent the night before being escorted to a local Thai police station. There, we were questioned, searched, and asked to complete various paperwork. From there, we were transported to another local authority post. Men were separated from women and children, and again we faced several days of interviews and processing.
Eventually, we were cleared to move to the next stage of our journey. We were sent to a detention center where we underwent further paperwork and questioning—each step carefully documented. After that, we were moved to the refugee camp in Nong Khai, Thailand.
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Refugee Camp ID photos |
At the camp, the process continued. Our family met with officials, completed additional forms, had our photos taken, and were assigned ID numbers. We checked daily at the camp’s central office for updates, waiting for our case to be reviewed and our next steps determined. It was during this time a photograph was taken of my family—myself in striped socks—just before we were moved again.
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Last early morning photo taken at Nongkhai Refuee Camp before being bused to Bangkok. I'm in the red stripe socks. |
From Nong Khai, we were transferred to Bangkok for another round of processing before being flown to the Philippines. In Manila, we were brought to a refugee center, where once again, we were interviewed, processed, and assigned temporary living quarters. We stayed there for several months, continuing the legal process. Our parents attended English classes, and even I went to school. I saw my first American films, STAR WAR and THE BLACK STALLION. Each family member was given duties to contribute to camp life. All the while, we maintained and protected our paperwork, refugee documents, ID cards—everything.
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Our extented family photo taken in the Refugee Center in the Phillipnnes. I am in the middle with my wraist up in front of my grandma. Noy |
Eventually, we were notified of our next destination: the United States.
We boarded a Pan Am Airways flight and landed in San Francisco. Upon arrival, we were bussed to a processing center, where we underwent yet another round of interviews and documentation. I vividly remember crossing the Bay Bridge, peering out the window, uncertain but hopeful. At the center, we waited for weeks as our case was finalized.
When our final destination was determined, we boarded a flight to Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, where we were welcomed by our aunt and uncle. Even after arriving, the legal process continued. We had government appointments, received our Social Security cards, green cards, and case worker visits. We followed every regulation, checked in regularly, and complied with every request.
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Family photo in our new apartment in Oswego,Ill. This was sveral years after the Refugee Camp in the Phillipine |
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6th grade photo at Maile Elem. in Hawaii |
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My father, Phomma Phagnasay |
Throughout our journey—from Thailand to the Philippines to the United States—our process was legal, documented, and guided by the systems in place. We were not just refugees; we were families who believed in law, structure, and hope. With the help of our relatives, church sponsors, and government programs, we built a new life here—step by step, paper by paper, appointment by appointment.
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Christmass photo with extended family in Illinios |
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My brother and I kung fu fight in fron tof our first apartment in Oswego,Ill. |
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Our Teacher from Oswego visiting us when we moved to Hawaii. |
Now at 52 years old, I look back with immense gratitude. My parents came with nothing but dignity, and through resilience and adherence to the process, they gave us everything. Our story is not just about survival—it's about doing things the right way and honoring the opportunity to live in America.
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My son and I |
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My 2 amazing kids |
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My crazy and amazing career. |
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