5 — My Vietnamese American Privilege

“Can I make a reservation for 6 people for tomorrow at 7pm, please?” I politely asked over the phone.

“Hold on a second miss. Because we are almost full, I will check for you. Can I have your name please?”

“Jessica.”

Several seconds go by before I hear the host’s voice again.

“Okay miss, I can reserve a table for you, 7pm tomorrow for 6 people.”

“Perfect, thank you.”

*At the market*

“Cái này bao nhiêu vay em gái?” I asked the purse vendor — a younger girl, maybe around 18-years-old.

“Cái này 450k chị, sản phẩm này rất tốt,” she responded, while taking out other purses and wallets for me to look at.

“Có bớt không?”

“Không, chị oi, hàng này rất tốt, 450k là rất rẻ rồi.”

“Bớt cho chị đi, 350k chị mua.”

“400k nhe chị.”

“Không, 350k đi, lần sau chị sẽ lại đây mua them.”

She paused and hesitated. I could sense that she really wanted to sell the wallet. I continued to haggle for the price I wanted, saying that if she gives me a good price, I’ll keep coming back here. Finally…

“Rồi okay, 350k cho chị,” she responded with a smile. She took the wallet and packaged it nicely for me, than handed me my change.

One of the greatest privileges I have is being Vietnamese American. This is a privilege that I try to constantly remind myself of while I’m living in Vietnam. In a place with an increasing population of foreigners and expats, it’s easy to forget and even neglect the culture that is here. There is everything for everyone. If I really wanted to, I could restrict myself to only staying in expat areas, hang out with other Vietnamese Americans or Europeans and eat non-Vietnamese cuisines. You can live in Vietnam and feel like you’re not even in Vietnam (except when you go outside and there are a zillion motorbikes whizzing by). It’s easy to take what you know and have for granted, but if I’ve learned anything from my journey to a better me, it’s this: never take anything for granted. In fact, make an effort to speak your gratitude every day. So, that’s what I do with my Vietnamese American identity.

Language is such an essential part of human relationships; it’s deeply embedded in the way we communicate and how we navigate the world. These conversations are small snippets of how I’ve taken advantage of my bilingualism, and it might not always be in a positive way. Being able to speak two languages means that I’m able to use the language that benefits me in a specific situation.

While living in Vietnam, I noticed that in certain settings, using my English will lead to better and faster service, especially in heavily touristy areas. I’ve noticed that I’ve had better treatment when I speak English. I actually tested this theory out.

When I was sick several months ago, I visited an international clinic. Usually, I will speak Vietnamese everywhere I go because everyone is Vietnamese, it just makes sense to me. But I’ve experience differences in responses and reactions when I speak Vietnamese versus when I speak English. Upon arrival to the clinic, I checked in for my appointment in Vietnamese. I was the only person at the reception desk, so I was surprised when the staff was so dismissive of me. They asked what I was there for and handed me some paperwork to fill out, all the time not looking at me. Then, they asked for identification and I handed them my blue passport. I say this with an emphasis on “blue” because having an American passport is like carrying gold, at least that’s what it feels like sometimes.

Immediately, the receptionist looked at me and her tone changed completely! She called for another staff member to bring me upstairs and handed off the clipboard. Upstairs, I spoke to the staff in English and explained why I was there. This time, the staff was very polite and friendly, took my information and asked me to wait for the doctor to call me in. I’m not saying that this means that everyone would treat me better if I spoke English, this is just one instance. However, based on this one instance, I started to pay more attention to my use of English versus Vietnamese in certain settings.

Another time I distinctly felt my privilege was when I had to go to the U.S. Consulate. It was a Monday morning, around 8:00am. There was a line of about 20 people outside of the building. I asked the guard where I should go and he directed me right inside when he saw my blue passport. Those with a foreign passport entered through a different door, and as I walked by, I could see everyone’s eyes staring at me and the passport in my hand. And I remember in that moment, I felt this overwhelming, strange feeling of separation. Now I’ve been to the U.S. Consulate several times since I’ve been in Vietnam for many reasons, mostly work related. Each time, I’ve switched between using English and Vietnamese. I learned that when I spoke English, the tone and attitude in people’s responses to me were more friendly and helpful, they even sometimes went above and beyond to explain certain information to me. However, when I spoke Vietnamese, I noticed that the responses were more lackluster, sometimes dismissive, even with my blue passport. These experiences made me think deeply about my privileges and how it can affect my behavior, but more importantly, the engrained idealization of our colonizers.

In the eyes of Vietnamese people, white people are held to the highest regard no matter who they are. I’ve seen this in numerous social settings and work spaces. For example, in many schools, Vietnamese American or Asian American applicants will be offered a lower salary than a white applicant for the same job. Many times, a white applicant with less experience will be offered a higher salary simply because they look the part. Vietnamese families want their children to learn from white-looking teachers. It’s as simple as that. One of my co-workers shared a story about his girlfriend. She’s a talented, Vietnamese photographer who does freelance work. When applying for various projects, a company picked a white male photographer over her, even though he was less experienced. He actually ended up asking her for help on the same project. You can imagine how she felt.

Even though I am not white or male, I still have privileges as an American. Being privileged means I can act like an expat whenever it benefits me, and I definitely take advantage of that in many situations, like going to a restaurant, visiting the doctor’s clinic and going to a government agency. It also means acting like a local whenever it benefits me, like when I am at the local markets or simply when I’m interacting with local Vietnamese people.

Over time, I can sense my behaviors becoming conditioned. I try to make an effort to speak more Vietnamese, but when it’s easier to speak English, I just do. In combatting this, I have made an effort to be more deliberate in speaking Vietnamese. I’ve been trying be more conscious of how my privilege affects others in these spaces. By taking on an expat role in certain spaces, am I hurting anyone in the process? Am I perpetuating stereotypes? Am I coming off as snobby? By acting like a local, am I hurting anyone in the process? Am I inadvertently taking advantage of others or hurting others by using my dual identities? How does this affect my long-term behavior?

I know it’s not enough to just recognize my privilege. Privilege is neutral, people have it. It’s how we use these privileges in our daily lives that’s most important. Do you ever think about how your privilege affects others? Or how you can use your privilege to elevate those around you? If not, I highly encourage you to start.