A Journey of Research and Discovery

During my doctoral program, I began to research how the educational system supports—or fails to support—the cultural identities of students of color, specifically Cambodian and Cambodian American students. My work led me to field interviews with educators from various backgrounds, and what I learned was both startling and revealing:

1. Most educators didn’t know who Cambodians are and were under the assumption that all Asians were the same.

2. Many educators admitted they didn’t know much about their Cambodian students or their cultural backgrounds.

2. There was an overwhelming consensus on the lack of diversity and culturally relevant instructional materials in classrooms.

These realizations were a wake-up call. The stories of my parents—refugees who had survived the Cambodian Genocide—echoed in my mind. They had endured unimaginable hardship, holding on to their traditions and values, not just for themselves, but for the generations that would follow. And here we were, in a system that seemed to be forgetting—or never knew—who we are.

This research was deeply personal. I was not just an academic exploring a theoretical issue; I was a mother, a second-generation Cambodian American, and the daughter of survivors. I realized that the stories my parents had shared with me growing up were not just family tales- they were lifelines—evidence of resilience, love, and hope.

A Moment of Pride and Responsibility
Completing my doctoral program as the “third Cambodian American” within that school’s Educational Leadership program was an honor beyond words. It was a moment of pride for my family, my community, and myself. It was not just a personal achievement—it was a statement. 

*A proud family photo of when I successfully completed my dissertation defense.*

This milestone also came with responsibility. I knew I could not stop at just researching these gaps in representation. I needed to do something about it. That is when I began to seriously explore what it would mean to become an author—a children’s book author- someone who could fill the void I had encountered years earlier when searching for books for my daughter and without seeing any as a child.

The Power of Storytelling
Storytelling has always been at the heart of Khmer culture. As a child, I sat mesmerized by my parents’ tales—stories of their lives in Cambodia before the war, of their harrowing escape, and of the traditions they held onto despite everything they had endured. These stories were more than history lessons; they were bridges connecting me to my identity.

I want that same connection for my daughter and for the next generation. I want young Cambodian Americans to know their history, to see their culture as something beautiful and vibrant, and to understand that their stories and all stories, matter!

A Legacy of Resilience
One of the greatest lessons my parents taught me is that resilience runs deep in our blood. The Khmer people have endured so much—war, displacement, and loss—yet we continue to rise. That resilience is what I want to pass down.

I want young people, especially those from marginalized communities, to know that it is never too late to chase your dreams. You are never too old, too tired, or too unworthy to try. Whatever excuse you have made for yourself, let it go. If our ancestors could survive the unthinkable, we can face the challenges of today with the same strength and determination.

Looking Ahead
My journey from searching for books to writing them has been one of self-discovery, reflection, and growth. It has taught me that representation is not just important—it’s transformative. When children see themselves in stories, they feel seen in the world.

Through my work, I hope to cultivate the rich history, stories, and values of our parents and ancestors so they are never lost. I want my daughter to grow up surrounded by stories that celebrate her Cambodian and Mexican heritage and to know that she comes from a lineage of strength and beauty.

This is the legacy I hope to leave behind—a legacy of storytelling, resilience, and love. Because our stories deserve to be told, and our children deserve to see themselves in every chapter.

*The moment my daughter and I walked across the graduation stage. WE did it!*