Asian American Stories of Resilience and Beyond

MAN (on radio): Ready to attack.

(beeps) MAN (on radio): Got them in position.

(radio static) (explosions rumble) QUYEN (voiceover): When I think of you, I think of someone who has endured so much loss.

Me#, how do we mourn places that only exist in our memories?

(static) (Vietnamese music playing) QUYEN (in Vietnamese): (Mom replies, Quyen exclaims) MOM (in Vietnamese): QUYEN: (exhales) Okay.

(hinge squeaks, indistinct talking) QUYEN (in Vietnamese): (door chiming) QUYEN: This wasn't the first time you had to rebuild.

You, like many others, arrived in the United States in the aftermath of the Vietnam War.

ANGIE (in Vietnamese): (bell chiming) - Uh huh.

(in Vietnamese): ANGIE: LE: ANGIE: Yeah.

- (chuckles) LE: QUYEN (in Vietnamese): ANGIE: Yeah.

ANGIE: LE: ANGIE: LE: (airplane jet roars in distance) ANGIE: Cathy's Nails.

Big.

QUYEN: ANGIE: (distorted rumbling) (whirring) (loud radio static crackles, liquid drips) QUYEN: I've always felt guilty about your nail salon.

It was your sacrifice in my name, literally.

(in Vietnamese): QUYEN: - Mm.

(static) ANGIE: QUYEN: - ANGIE: Quyen.

- Mm.

ANGIE: QUYEN: (tools whirring) (laughter) (clattering) (chattering) DAD (in Vietnamese): QUYEN: Memories are not the residue of loss.

This generational memory, it's a living practice that we're building.

Together.

(bell chiming)