Chin refugees from Myanmar forge community in Lewisville

Vernon Bryant/Staff Photographer
Van Par Zi, a high school senior who came to the U.S. a decade ago, plans to go into medicine and help her homeland.
LEWISVILLE — When she and her family first came to the U.S. a decade ago, she knew no English, a displaced kid suddenly worlds away from the life she had known.
Now, Van Par Zi is a senior at Lewisville High School with plans to major in pre-med at Abilene Christian University. The 18-year-old brims with graciousness and poise, among the success stories in a little-known, mostly refugee community that has taken root in south Denton County.
Van and her family are Chin — an ethnic group from the Chin state in western Myanmar, also known as Burma. About 3,500 Chin fleeing persecution in their homeland have resettled in Lewisville, making it one of the country’s largest such communities, second only to Indianapolis.
As a suddenly ungrounded 7-year-old, Van was alone at recess. But “one girl treated me really nicely,” she remembered. “We communicated through body language. She was the closest thing to a friend that I had.”
Thousands of Myanmar’s mostly Christian Chin fleeing harassment from the country’s former ruling military junta found their way to refugee camps in nearby countries, many resettling in the U.S. Van said her family was among the lucky ones who got out early, coming directly to America and avoiding the grueling and perilous treks undertaken by many of their compatriots.
“After we left, the government got worse with the military rule and stuff,” she said. “A few of my friends at church shared their experiences — they had to go to Malaysia illegally, and the police would come looking for them and they had to hide. They had 20 people living in a one-room house.”
Mentoring
Once here, the Chin face the challenges of another culture, a foreign language and an unfamiliar way of life. In Lewisville, an agency now known as Chin Community Ministry has helped them acclimate, providing them with volunteer “mentors” — American individuals and families who help them make new lives.
The ministry, which just earned nonprofit status, works with about 500 Chin families a month.
“They come destitute, with one suitcase and no English,” said executive director Becky Nelson. “They’ve been persecuted, so their biggest experience is fear. The only thing they trust is the church.”
In Myanmar, the Chin were mostly farmers, often living in homes lacking indoor plumbing and dependable electricity. Shunned for their Christianity and support of pro-democracy political candidates, they couldn’t rise above certain work positions and had little, if any, access to education and health care.
An intensely faithful people, the Chin also faced limitations on their freedom to exercise their religion.
“There was a lot of intimidation,” said Lewisville’s Joey Dean, who along with wife Kristy has mentored one local Chin family for about a year and just took on another. The military “would come into their village and demand money or arrest people for no reason.”
Mentors guide Chin refugees through the school system, offer rides and help with English. The Deans have taught their assigned family to create budgets, tutored their kids through homework and helped negotiate the bureaucracy of paperwork.
Now Dean, a proposal manager for an IT firm, considers the family among his best friends, routinely having them over for dinner or taking the kids to the movies or the park when their parents work extra days and long hours.
It takes a village
Lacking much formal education, the refugees mainly find factory or assembly work, often filling night shifts and/or driving long distances. A number are employed at a chicken plant in Sherman, for instance; a handful of others work at The Dallas Morning News’ printing plant.
“They’re cleaning every Wal-Mart in the metroplex,” Nelson said. “Or they’re stocking at night. They basically are the invisible people.”
The first Chin people came to the area about 15 years ago, asylees who sought protection having already arrived in the U.S. They settled in Lewisville, at the time one of the nation’s fastest-growing areas and rife with jobs.
Hundreds of others have followed since, and Nelson now estimates the area’s Chin population at about 3,500. Many live in a pair of sprawling Lewisville apartment complexes, re-establishing a Chin community outside their homeland, coalescing in line with former village affiliations.
“They hold village meetings and take up collections,” Nelson said. “Whoever gets laid off gets a donation from the village. I seldom get asked for rent assistance anymore.”
Settling in at school
Along with the newer trend of homeownership, citizenship is on the rise as the community settles in for good, with many hoping to return to Myanmar to visit aging relatives before they’re gone.
The community’s growth has likewise diversified the school system: At Lewisville High’s main campus, about 10 percent of the school’s students are Chin, principal Andy Plunkett said. ESL teachers have shifted their focus from Spanish to Chin dialects, hunting down hard-to-find Chin language dictionaries to aid their instruction.
Students launched the Chin Student Organization to not only create awareness among the general community, but to help newly arriving Chin students adjust to an unfamiliar environment.
“They give them tours and help with their lockers and books and lunch forms,” Plunkett said. “They’re really ambassadors.”
Half the school’s soccer team consists of Chin students, and others are sprinkled throughout the student council, band, tennis squad and National Honor Society rolls.
Many walked hundreds of miles to reach refugee camps in neighboring Thailand, to the east. Lewisville High teachers led an activity in which Chin students were asked to estimate the distance they’d covered by looking up their village and tracing a line to the camps on Google Maps.
The average walk was 600 miles — about the distance to El Paso — and several had walked twice that. When ESL teachers prompted one writing exercise by asking students to write about their most difficult experience, “these kids were writing wonderful essays about carrying their grandparents through the jungle in the middle of the night, barefoot,” Plunkett said.
“But when they were asked about their happiest day,” he added, “almost every one of them said: ‘When the plane landed in the United States.’ ”
Some waited up to six months in refugee camps before leaving the country. Arriving at Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport after a stop in Chicago, many were greeted by Chin Community Ministry staff; kids were given backpacks and clothes, “and they were literally at school the next day,” Plunkett said. “They could have flown out on Friday and be sitting in our classrooms on Monday.”
A success story
Van, once among those students, is now far from the tiny girl who’d first arrived wide-eyed and clueless and mostly isolated on the playground.
Through the years, she found confidence; by the time she reached high school, she was the Chin Student Organization president. She regularly visits local health clinics in connection with a class that she hopes will prepare her for a medical career — ideally in Myanmar, where the junta has slowly acceded its power.
“When I’m older, I want to do something to help our community, if I can become a medical professional,” Van said. “We lack adequate health care in our country.”
Van feels lucky to be here, and more so because her parents want her to pursue college. Other refugee parents prefer that their kids, no matter how academically successful, forgo higher education to help support the family.
Lewisville High teachers have been so inspired by the efforts of Chin students that they and their families have donated nearly $10,000 to a scholarship fund to help further their education.
“The U.S. has opened so many opportunities for me that I didn’t know existed,” Van said. “I’m really glad to be in this country.”