A Journey from Saigon: Reflections on Hope, Displacement, and the Power of Support

In 1979, at just 11 years old, my father instructed us to pack a small bag. That night, our family, consisting of my parents and seven siblings, left our home in Saigon. We traveled to a coastal village in Song Be, Vietnam. There, under the cover of darkness, we boarded a small fishing boat. We crammed in with about 300 others, drifting into open waters with no certainty of survival.

I didn’t fully grasp the situation then, but now as a father myself, I do. My father made a decision that no parent should face: risk everything, including our lives, or miss the chance of a future. This difficult choice was driven by hope. It was a belief that we deserved more than fear and limitation. This story mirrors that of millions today.

This March, I visited Vietnam again as the chief financial officer of UNICEF USA. I saw a country transformed. It was dynamic and full of opportunity, unlike the war-torn place I left. I wondered if my parents would have taken that risky journey had they known what Vietnam would become. I believe they would. Their decisions were based on hope.”

June marks World Refugee Day and Father’s Day, a poignant time for me and many fathers worldwide. These events highlight that behind every refugee statistic is a decision made from responsibility, not recklessness. Today, around 50 million children are forcibly displaced, the highest recorded. They flee conflicts and instability not of their making; the experiences shape their lives.

After three days at sea, we landed in Malaysia. We stayed temporarily on a beach before moving to a refugee camp. A year later, we relocated to the Philippines, waiting over a year for resettlement. Initially, no country accepted us, citing too many children and parents without the right jobs. Despite this, I received my first vaccinations from humanitarian workers and learned my ABCs from volunteers. Such support illustrated that we weren’t forgotten.

I remember the UNICEF logo from childhood. Institutions were foreign to me then, but I understood the presence of someone willing to help. Humanitarian aid doesn’t just fulfill immediate needs; it fosters long-term change. During my recent visit to Vietnam, I saw this in action.

In Hanoi, at the Inclusive Education Resource Center, technology supports children with disabilities, integrating them into mainstream schools. This reminded me of what inclusive education can achieve. In Bac Ha, I observed UNICEF’s influence on education. The use of mother-tongue bilingual education for the Hmong community was striking. It ensured children learned Vietnamese while preserving their cultural identity. It resonated with my experience of maintaining my cultural roots while learning English.

On our last day, visiting a boarding school, the sight of shared cramped sleeping spaces evoked memories of my refugee camp days. Such programs are not mere investments. They are lifelines offering children a chance to realize their potential. Yet, global displacement strains the support for these systems.

Debates on refugee policy often focus on borders, numbers, and costs. Long-term impacts receive lesser attention. Investing in children yields immeasurable returns. A child in a refugee camp could become a teacher, a doctor, a leader, or help ensure all children have equal opportunities.

This World Refugee Day and Father’s Day, we must not only recognize these families’ resilience but also honor our shared obligation to them. My father’s courage wasn’t unique. Globally, parents make impossible choices daily for their children’s futures. The key question is whether we will match their determination, ensuring their children access education, healthcare, and opportunities. This isn’t mere compassion; it’s an investment in a stable, prosperous world.

Standing in Vietnam, reflecting on this journey, I felt gratitude for my parents, supportive organizations, and for the chance I’ve had. But I also felt a responsibility as millions of children await their chance. My father faced risks for my future. We must now ensure others have the same chance.

Michael Chen is the chief financial officer of UNICEF USA.