In 1957, my mother's family escaped the repressive socialist government that was taking hold in Burma.
In the capital city of Rangoon, my grandfather worked for an airline and my grandmother was a secretary at the Israeli consulate. They left everything they owned and came to San Francisco to live with my great-uncle who sponsored them.
With amusement, my mother recalls two of her father's many jobs. He worked as a waiter for two weeks, then as a heart and lung technician in a hospital, having had no prior medical training. With eventually seven children to support, it's no wonder that he worked wherever possible.
The Catholic church provided support and faith in hard times. My family lived in a tiny apartment with very limited means, and the food baskets the church gave them were very much appreciated. My grandmother helped in the rectory and adjoining school and often brought the kids to help as well.
They were fortunate to have left Burma when they did. Five years after leaving, a military coup resulted in the establishment of a military dictatorship focused on the Burmese path to socialism. The new xenophobic government caused isolation from the international community and economic stagnation for the country.
Resistance to the military regime was, and is still, met with torture, political imprisonment and mass killings. In 1988, hundreds of thousands of unarmed protesters marched to demand a freely elected civilian government. The army opened fire and killed an estimated 10,000 people. Thousands were arrested and tortured for their opposition.
Today, human rights abuses are still happening. The practice of systematic torture, rape and forced labor is occurring widely throughout Burma. Amnesty International has conducted interviews of refugees who have fled to neighboring Thailand.
My family doesn't talk about what has happened to Burma. Growing up, all I can recall about being Burmese is the large family gatherings: good food, and a lullaby that doesn't translate into English well. In Burmese, it sounds like a fun little song that rhymes, but translated it means, "the dog ate the parrot, and I liked that girl."
Only in the past few years have I wanted to research my cultural roots. In my quest to learn more about my mother's homeland, I have found that Burma's history is full of contradiction. In the past, Burma was considered a peaceful paradise, with golden palaces and a culture centered in Buddhist beliefs. Today, it is a country full of violence and corruption with no visible end in sight.
Often we don't feel called to action unless an issue is personal to us. This is the story of my connection to the plight of the Burmese people. I'm sharing it with you in hopes that it becomes personal to you as well.
I would like to share a quote from Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, the leader of the National League for Democracy in Burma: "I would like (the West) to see us not as a country rather far away whose sufferings do not matter, but as fellow human beings in need of human rights and who could do so much for the world, if we were allowed."
Bernadette Fong is a member of The Olympian's Diversity Panel. She can be reached at bernadette@zazenz.com.