Vietnamese refugee legacy inspires grandchild’s graduation reflection

This article is part of Rapid Growth's Voices of Youth series, which features content created by Kent County youth with support from Rapid Growth staff. 

I stand here not just as a student about to graduate, but as a descendant of heroes. Not your classic superhero in a cape, but heroes with the strength of resilience, who risked their lives so I could have the life I have now. 

A yellow star. For many, this yellow star and its bright red background represent the Vietnamese flag. But for South Vietnamese families like mine, this yellow star is a reminder of the day everything changed: April 30, 1975. That day marked the fall of a country and the rise of unspeakable suffering.

Courtesy of Ethan LienEthan Lien's grandparents, dad, uncle, and two aunts outside of the Grand Rapids church that sponsored them in 1980.

This suffering is something I could never fathom. In 1976, my grandpa, a member of the South Vietnamese secret police, was arrested by the Communists. For one year he was chained to a metal rod with 15 other prisoners, interrogated daily, stripped of his freedom.

“Where were you born?! Where did you go to school?!” They would yell violently—yet his dignity never wavered. He survived, but Vietnam was no longer what he once called home.

So, in 1979, with desperation and hope in their hearts, my grandparents departed on a fishing boat from Bạc Liêu, Vietnam. They drifted from Vietnam to Malaysia to Indonesia, finally settling in a refugee camp on KuKu Island. In our interviews, my grandparents described that journey as “sickening and terrifying,” yet they believed it was their only chance at a future. A future they were willing to risk their lives for—not for themselves, but for their children.

Unwavering strength

And so, on Aug. 7, 1980, they arrived in West Michigan, sponsored by Robert Winkle from East Leonard Christian Reformed Church. My grandfather immediately took a job at John Widdicomb Furniture Co. where he faced discrimination and injustice. He was denied raises, blamed unfairly — but like his time in prison, he never gave up. My grandma stayed home to raise their kids, then got a job at Grand Rapids Public Schools. They worked during the day, learned English at night, and raised a family through it all.
Courtesy of Ethan LienEthan Lien’s grandmother holds a sign displaying her boat number, commemorating her journey as part of the Vietnamese boat people in 1951.
Their strength never wavered, like a shield protecting our family.

And their children—especially my father—carried that strength forward. Forced to grow up fast, he worked as a paperboy to help support his siblings. And even now, he is the kind of person who will stop to help a stranger jump their car or shovel a neighbor’s driveway—never asking for anything in return. His actions, his generosity, are echoes of the man who raised him. They are echoes of the people who sacrificed everything for him and his siblings. 

Today I stand on the foundation my grandparents built with their bare hands. I am a product of their sacrifice. I am the legacy of their pain, their courage, their hope.

And while we have settled into West Michigan, we will never forget what it took to get here. So, as I live, I want to embrace their hard work. Their resilience is my motivation. It is my motivation to push forward through all of the struggles I might face; it is why I work hard to prove to them their sacrifices weren’t for nothing. It is a gift I can never repay, so I am forever thankful. 

Courtesy of Ethan LienEthan Lien with his extended family at their 2024 Christmas party.

Finding my place

While their pain is unimaginable, I’ve had my struggles too. From an immigrant household to school, the culture shock was an obstacle. I struggled to find a place of belonging until joining the Asian Student Union freshman year. Like them, I fought and searched for a place, and eventually I found one serving as treasurer of ASU.

The Asian Student Union was my version of West Michigan. It, along with the resilience from my grandparents, inspired me to work hard, and eventually, I was admitted into the University of Michigan for pharmacy. I will spend the next four years of my life immersing myself in researching treatments for diseases.

Ethan Lien’s dad surrounded by family after graduating from the correctional officer academy in 2024.

Now it is time for me to write my own story; to build upon my family's legacy. The trauma of war, the refugee camps, the discrimination—they are not just stories. They are the scars etched into the soul of our community. My grandparents' struggles will always be something I can never discern; however, their resilience lives in me. So as I prepare to graduate, and as I approach a new chapter in my life, I hope to maintain their resilience and honor their legacy – the Lien family legacy. 

Family photos courtesy of Ethan Lien.

Ethan Lien is a senior at East Kentwood High School. He took part in GR Stories, a partnership between Kentwood Public Schools and the Grand Rapids Public Museum. In their U.S. History class, students explore how Vietnamese Americans shaped West Michigan by interviewing family members who arrived after the fall of Saigon. Their stories offer personal insights into national history, highlight the impact of the 1980 Refugee Act, and serve as primary sources for future students.