Change: Identity vs. Humanity: Madam (TON NU THI) Ninh at TEDxSanJoaquin

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Hello, from Vietnam to the world, and to

the University of the Pacific,

here at Stockton, California.

I was born in Vietnam, and grew up in

Vietnam, and I lived many years in Europe.

I came back home during the war. I've been

a teacher, a diplomat, an elected

representative, and today, I'm a

social, cultural, and educational

entrepreneur. I define myself as

passionately Vietnamese, creatively

individual, and thoughtfully global.

In a sense, Vietnam's journey is my

journey. Its striving to its place

into the sun, and how I relate to it.

How I contribute and impact on it

moves me and makes me.

In this intertwined journey, I have

come to the conclusion that the more

globalised our world becomes, the more we

need to be anchored in our nationhood,

our culture, and our specific, individual

identity. We need to navigate this

triangle of self, nation, and the world,

creatively, in our own specific way,

if we are to find peace and fulfillment.

Personally, I don't believe in the notion

of the "pure" global citizen; one who

would drift about, breeze in and out

and above nations and communities,

not belonging anywhere. Not- not

committed to any constituency

smaller than the broader world.

But you and me know that for the

foreseeable future, people will keep

asking, "Where are you from?" Now,

let's ask ourselves, "What are Vietnam

and the Vietnamese known for?"

I believe that the defining strength of

the Vietnamese nation is our enduring

humanity and identity through the worst

ordeals and trials.

Wars tend to dehumanise. Vietnam has

suffered massive physical destruction

and immense loss of life. Successive

wars, however, have failed to dehumanise

the Vietnamese.

The Vietnamese Nation emerged from

wars, retaining their humanity, unshackled

by resentment and hatred, bent on

moving on. You just have to look at faces

of Vietnamese, old and young, soon after

the war. Many visitors to Vietnam,

including U.S. veterans who were stationed

in Vietnam before, cannot feel but be

surprised at the lack of resentment

towards Americans, including from our own

veterans. And the same attitude applied

to French veterans. And this is the

natural disposition of the Vietnamese

people that could never be detected by any

government. The Vietnamese fight hard for

what they treasure above all. Which is

their independence and identity. But once

the fight is over, they look forward, and

don't let resentment drive them.

A Korean-American professor once observed

to me: "I don't know how you, the

Vietnamese do it - to reconcile so fast

with the Americans. We - the Koreans,

and the Chinese on the one hand, and

the Japanese on the other - at times,

the hurt and the anger of the past still

haunts us. Those of you old enough may

remember the tragedy of Mỹ Lai,

a village in central Vietnam where, back

in 1968, a U.S. platoon killed more

than 500 unarmed villagers -

all of them women,

children, and old men. But on that fateful

day, three U.S. soldiers on a helicopter

happened to fly into the area, and they

took it upon themselves to save two young

villagers - two young women - by whisking

them away to safety. There is a

documentary by filmmaker

Trần Văn Thủy, called "The Sound of Violin

in Mỹ Lai". It shows the return to Mỹ Lai

several decades later by captain Thompson,

one of the three soldiers on that heli-

copter. And the deeply emotional moment

when he meets again the two women he had

saved. The women, now in middle-age,

weep, and embrace him in gratitude for

having saved their lives. The meaningful-

ness of this moment is that the horror and

grief of Mỹ Lai did not totally engulf

these women. There was enough emotional

empathy and maturity for them to make the

distinction between those who had killed

the innocents and the defenseless, and

those brave men of conscience who did the

right thing, during the-

amidst the madness of that

darkest day. Captain Thompson and his

comrades did not let war dehumanise them.

And the two women villagers emerged from

the tragedy still able to discern right

from wrong. To remain unembedded,

unhateful in a world still humane. It is

the singular legacy of openness of heart

and soul that we Vietnamese, from inside

and outside Vietnam, must treasure and

uphold. I'd like now to ask, "what is it

that the Vietnamese are known for?"

I would say: their fortitude, their

resilience, their

resourcefulness, their adaptability.

"Tomorrow is another day." These words of

Scarlet O'Hara in "Gone with the Wind"

hold particular resonance

with the Vietnamese psyche. Post-war

Vietnam is a living testimony to this. Let

me tell you the story of Jerry Sternin.

Jerry Sternin was the country director of

Save the Children U.S. in Vietnam. One

day, he said something puzzling to me. He

said, "I've never had to feel pity for

anyone in Vietnam." Of course, I asked

him, "What do you mean?" And here is his

answer: "I've worked in many poor

countries of the developing world. There

still are, in Vietnam, pockets of poverty

comparable to, say, Bangladesh. But in

the most destitute corners of Vietnam,

I've never had to feel pity for the old

villagers that I met because, looking at

them, there was no sense of despair, of

fatalistic resignation of the sense of

giving up. Instead, you could read the

quiet resolve that they would continue

to strive for a better future - if not

for themselves, then for their children

and grandchildren." This is the fortitude,

the resilience, the ability to look ahead

and adapt. In other words, the indomitable

character that I've been speaking of. The

Vietnamese diaspora on all continents

equally show this remarkable ability to

overcome, rise, and excel, in different

places, in diverse circumstances,

particularly the power of education.

Now, what lies ahead? What challenges lie

ahead for Vietnam and the Vietnamese?

During the war, greed - this basic human

instinct - was naturally muted by deeper

and more powerful drivers of our actions.

Today, in peace and plenty, we are faced-

we, the Vietnamese, we are faced with a

threat of greed, unleashed, shameless. And

this is an extential threat to our legacy

and identity. During the war, we were

grounded in our local and national

reality, no matter how harsh. Today, as we

move into the world, as we are more of

the world, we still need, in fact, more

than ever, to nurture our roots; our sense

of belonging to specific place, community,

nation. Culture dies hard. "Culture is

what is left when you have

lost everything," as the French writer

says. Culture makes us human.

The Vietnamese culture and

character has enabled us to absorb, to

assimilate, and to turn into our own the

changes that we face through the centuries

and today, it enables us to live with the

paradox of reconciling globalism and

individuality. Those of you who belong to

the worldwide Vietnamese diaspora do

embrace the richness of biculturalism. The

culture of the society you live in, of the

country you're a citizen of, and the

culture of your origins. Nurture your

biculturalism, or cross-culturalism, and

then you can confidently move back to the

world, secure, knowing who you are, where

you belong, and what you can offer to the

world. And remember: in this day and age,

you can belong to more than one place.

The global and the local are in you.

Vietnam, and the Vietnamese, come to the

world with a message of hope, fortitude,

and compassion. Thank you.

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