Kong Eastside Oakland Story

I am Kong.

Born and raised in Oakland

Living in a ghetto neighborhood.

Living a young ghetto life

Still with no money to get to college.

Focus on school and building up my knowledge.

Family is first.

I have two brothers  

two sisters.

Who have already graduated.

I am on my way to bigger and better things in life.

Being a Cambodian is what I am.

I will continue my journey making some sacrifices.

That I’ll make to get me to where I want to be.

I am Kong and this is my life.

I am not blind. I just can’t see.

I am a refugee.

Where families and friends born and raise.

In the killing fields,

Killing fields are where over one million people die and

Thousands shed their tear and cry

Life is hard being a refugee

It like you have to hustle to eat

Refugee, refugee

Life isn’t easy being a refugee

Look at my people’s facial expression

It’s never a smile

It’s always a frown

I am like a bullet

Inside a gun

Loaded and ready to kill my own people

I am like my mom

Looking to the left

Looking to the right

I see my people getting killed

I am a myth

I Jayavarman Vll

Built the Angkor Wat

With my two bare hands

Real or not, it might be my ancestors

Many struggles are the life as a Cambodian.

Political executions, forced labor and starvation.

An unforgettable invasion destroys a land called home.

A father, a mother, an uncle, an aunt, a daughter and a brother killed; loved ones feeling alone.

How did many survive

When millions died?

A silent night, crawling across the field, lights flashing and a refugee continues to hide.

Finding a pathway, a new home, and a place to feel safe inside.

It’s now time each refugee who survived adjusts to the life in America.

Seeing an unfamiliar face speaking upon a confusing language.

Starting a new life in a new country as though you can call it your own.

But feeling misplaced and unwanted.

A stranger’s eye looking through you knowing you don’t belong here.

It’s hard to live it stable when you’re a refugee who faced a bit of fear.

Having several thoughts but lost in a trapped trance.

The light brought you here given you the chance.

I am a refugee who fought to be here and without a doubt

Don’t mistake me at first glance.

I would wonder how it was like being a refugee during the Khmer Rouge.

Feeling the suffering and pain and losing what meant to you the most.

Pride was taken away from every Cambodian, leaving them like a ghost.

My culture and beliefs make me who I am.

With the enjoyment having a simple gathering at the temple

With the FAM.

What my ancestors have done

And how much they fought.

It’s strength which continues to confuse me

And becomes a second thought.

A vain of blood runs in my body stating PRIDE.

I am thankful to be a Cambodian and still living alive.

To my ancestors, grandparents,

And loved ones who died.

This is to you,

I will learn to love and appreciate what I have and give others the same,

which I can provide.