Farmers Market - Hmong in Minnesota

     On Sunday mornings I like to go to our local farmers market.  Last week I was able to get those tiny brussels sprouts which I roasted with garlic and tossed with balsamic vinegar, more garlic and olive oil.  Excellent!  Today I latched onto fingerling potatoes, raspberries and cherry tomatoes.  I love that most of the stands are run by Hmong families.  Not only does this remind me of my own roots since I am the progeny of farmers in this area, but it reminds me that the American Dream is indeed alive and kicking.
     When the Hmong first started enrolling in St. Paul schools in the 80s, I was teaching English.  One of my class requirements was that the kids keep a journal.  Reading about the Winter Snow Daze Dance in so many of the entries, I was taken aback when I came across my first Hmong journal in which a student described something very different than dances, boyfriends, clothes and who was this week's worst ho in the school.  Instead, this journal described running from soldiers who were shooting at him and his family, how hard it was crossing a wide river with so many of his family members and what it was like to sleeplessly hide in the jungle until they could reach a camp in Thailand.
     Over the years I came to know many such stories and absolutely marveled at how these families struggled to save money, work all day and go to school at night. They proudly encouraged their children to reach pinnacles at school because that was THE ticket to success.  Before I retired I was fortunate to have many Hmong educators as colleagues.  One English teacher had even been a former student of mine in 8th grade, and there she was, excelling in the classroom and sitting next to me at faculty meetings!  Talk about feeling old...... These professionals do their culture and the field of education proud, and I can't express what a privilege it has been to work with them.  They are the success stories and examples of why our country is all the richer for the immigrants we've invited to our cultural table.

     So when I spend a little extra on produce at the farmers market, I don't mind one bit.