GANGS PROMPT HMONG PLEA : HOW CAN WE SAVE CHILDREN? PARENTS FIGHT TO KEEP CONTROL, AND TEENS DEAL WITH INSECURITIES

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1 GANGS PROMPT HMONG PLEA : HOW CAN WE SAVE CHILDREN? PARENTS FIGHT TO KEEP CONTROL, AND TEENS DEAL WITH INSECURITIES Detroit Free Press (MI) - Tuesday, October 26, 1999 Author: MEI-LING HOPGOOD and JEFF GERRITT FREE PRESS STAFF WRITERS They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, about 25 of them, around several tables last week at Lincoln High School in Warren, all of them troubled. Among them were members of the Kue, Vue, Yang, Thao and Lee clans, and the head of the Chang clan. They spoke to each other in the undulating tones of their native Hmong language. In English, they complained to Detroit and Warren police officers about gang houses in their neighborhoods and the feeling that officers are slow to respond. But most of all, they wanted to know: How can we save our wayward children? Shock has rippled through Hmong communities nationwide in recent months as authorities have investigated a series of alleged rapes and other crimes linked to Hmong gangs in Detroit, as well as in Wisconsin, Colorado and California. In the Detroit case, which has drawn national attention, five Hmong teenagers and men are charged with raping four Hmong girls from Wisconsin. One of the girls, a 17-year-old, says she was held for two weeks and raped repeatedly in an abandoned house with no electricity or heat. The allegations have formed a troubling, undesired link between the Hmong people in metro Detroit and in Wisconsin, where similar concerns resonate about what has caused a small, but seemingly growing, number of young people to stray into lives of apparent lawlessness. In Detroit and elsewhere, the Hmong community is one in which everyone knows everyone's family. Their surnames link them to a larger family. A Yang is part of the Yang clan. A Kue is part of the Kue clan. There are about 18 clans nationwide, and a dozen known to be in metro Detroit, which has a Hmong population of about 7,000. Each person is only a few people away from being related. It is a community that, despite small numbers, often yields a large share of top students in the schools they attend. Almost half of the top 10 students at Osborn High School in Detroit are Hmong. Last year, the valedictorian at Pontiac Central High School was Hmong. Principals say most Hmong students are among the best behaved and most active in school. Yet this is also a community in which gangs are swallowing up vulnerable young people. The gangs recruit teens who are searching for an identity, foundering in a generational, cultural and language gap between them and their families. The gangs offer support, understanding and friendship.

2 And so, in their gathering last Tuesday at Lincoln High, community members asked each other: How can we reach these kids and their families? "These kids are not bad kids," said Chou Lee, 29, a mother from Warren. "They're just lost." How it started In the old country, parents could control their children better, many Hmong people say. The Hmong typically believe that hitting a child is an acceptable form of discipline. Respect for elders -- anyone older than you -- was absolute. There were no gangs. Many Hmong began coming to the United States in the mid-1970s. The Hmong, an ethnic group from Laos, sided with the United States in the Vietnam War and fled after the U.S. withdrawal. They stayed in refugee camps in Thailand, often surviving on rice and vegetable rations from America. Some immigrated directly to Detroit, sponsored by Redemption Lutheran Church or Mt. Zion Evangelical Church on the city's east side. Others stopped in more popular Hmong destinations such as Minnesota and Wisconsin. Peter Kue's neighborhood at Gratiot and Fairport Street once flourished with Hmong families and Asian shops. For years, the Hmong lived like a big family. They worked and went to church together. They threw parties and dances every weekend. Then came the changes. First, parents discovered that some of their ways were not welcome in their adopted home. Their cures for ailments were deemed peculiar, even abusive. The Hmong believe that when a person is sick, his or her blood is bad. So they might pinch the skin to relieve the blood. Or they might massage all the blood to the elbow and the knee area, then pierce the skin so the blood can be cured. Some families became afraid to discipline their children. And language and cultural barriers separated them from police and other people who might help. Meanwhile, young people started relating more to America than to Laos. They spoke more English than Hmong. Some felt as though their poverty was magnified in the glare of American materialism. Some envied the freedom of their American peers and felt they didn't fit in. Many young people were able to adjust, such as Jeff Vang, 22, who attends business school at the University of Michigan. His parents taught him the right way, he said. Others could not adapt.

3 Enter the gang members. The Asian Kings. The Asian King Posse. The Hmong Loco Boys. Local teenagers started out imitating gang dress and attitude. But some got into drugs and extortion. They tempted teenagers, such as Mee Kue's brother. She recalled that her brother, as a junior high school student, needed someone to protect him from getting beat up, someone to relate to. Now he's in jail in Detroit, charged in a murder. Gangs started disrupting Hmong events. A few teenagers started fights and flashed guns. "We began to start to worry about which people we should and shouldn't invite" to parties, said Peter Kue, Mee Kue's uncle. "Then we started to wonder whether we should have gatherings at all." Violence increases The sensational cases flared up one after another in recent months. In Fresno, Calif., federal authorities unveiled an 826-count indictment this month that charged 23 suspected gang members in the rapes of at least 18 victims ages 11 to 15. In Boulder, Colo., five Hmong men -- said to belong to the Asian Crips gang -- have been charged with kidnapping and sexually assaulting a University of Colorado student last August. The student told authorities that one attacker said it was part of an initiation. As in the Detroit case, there was a Wisconsin link. The suspects were arrested in Green Bay and returned to Colorado. Wisconsin is home to more than 45,000 Hmong, one of the largest populations in the country. Like other cities in Wisconsin, Green Bay responded to the Hmong refugees with a range of social programs. The state's employment agency has Hmong job counselors, and United Way agencies employ Hmong outreach workers. Recreation agencies such as the YMCA and Boys and Girls Club use Hmong liaisons to attract more Hmong youth and gain parents' approval. Green Bay spends more than $4 million a year on English-as-a-second-language instruction for Southeast Asian students to aid the 1,825 Hmong students in the 19,000-student district. The recent criminal cases have started to frighten Hmong parents and strain relations with the rest of the community. "People are starting to apply stereotypes to the Hmong people," said Kou Vang, 24, a 1998 college graduate and graphic designer for the Green Bay Area Chamber of Commerce. "The entire community is tarred." Vang, who edits Teen Hmong magazine, said three of her younger brothers had joined gangs, partly because her tradition-bound father was too strict.

4 "They couldn't communicate," she said. "There was a huge gap. Gangs can become a family, without a strong family at home. They get support from their peers, without being judged." Most Hmong youth -- like Green Bay high school students Mia Chao, Pheng Xiong and Lia Vang -- juggle Hmong and U.S. cultures, though most of their friends are Hmong. Their parents want them to succeed in the U.S. culture while maintaining tradition. Many Hmong parents discourage activities outside of work or school and don't want their children to date or marry outside their ethnic group. "Studying or going to a job are all our parents want us to do," said Lia Vang, 16, who plans to become a teacher. Chao, 18, a National Honor Society student, said her parents fear gangs. "We never had that kind of thing in Laos," she said. "Now, they're really afraid we'll get involved with the wrong people. They see someone who dresses a certain way, or has their hair dyed or streaked, and they think he's a gangster." Finding support In the Detroit area, Hmong community leaders say they want to do more to help families deal with teenagers, as Green Bay has done. Peter Kue sometimes helps with Lao Hmong Community Inc., one of the few organizations in metro Detroit that specifically helps the Hmong community. Some school districts, such as Detroit, Warren and Pontiac, provide bilingual staff for schools with many Hmong students. But the community center is little more than a house with an answering machine. The executive board members, all volunteers, meet once a month. They get good turnouts for their few programs and parties. But the families that need help most are the least likely to show up. They have known for a long time that there is a gang problem. But the group could not afford to hire an outreach staff. It gets some money from New Detroit and has applied for a few grants. However, members said they could not compete with other nonprofits that know the system better or have larger or needier populations. "We really need help, but we don't know where to get help," said George Yang, who owns Southeast Asia Trading, an Asian food store in Detroit. The community is more accustomed to handling problems internally. Clan leaders would work out issues such as marriages, divorces and property conflicts. Now, the Hmong families of the accused and of the alleged victims in the Detroit gang -rape case are trying to come to terms with the complexities of the legal system.

5 At hearings Monday and last Friday, lawyers and court officers confused the names of the defendants and victims. The parents understood the judge only with the help of their other children. The local Hmong community seems split over who to believe. The Hmong culture is dominated by males. Men run the clans. Men run the meetings. Men are often considered more credible, some say. Only recently have women begun to speak out. Some people say they think the girls knew what they were getting into. The girls should have known better than to leave their homes in Wisconsin with strangers and come to Detroit, said Yang, as he stood at the counter of his Asian food store. Others worry more for the girls. No one should be forced to have sex, they said. Even the sister of one of the accused boys was unsure as she sat waiting for a hearing Friday. She said her brother did not do anything wrong, but she also seemed to relate to the girls' story. "My friend was raped and murdered this summer," she said quietly. "It's so confusing." When community leaders discussed the allegations at the meeting last week, no one could agree. The courts would have to decide, they said. Police officers, meanwhile, agreed to help create a program to teach parents about disciplining their kids and promised more attention to the community's safety. It was a measure of hope the parents needed. In Laos, sickness was rampant, so families had many children. Hmong parents may slap their child to discipline them, Peter Kue explained, but they cannot curse at them. To the Hmong, children are precious. And the community must do more to help them. "They still have hope," said Kue. "Look how far they've gone to bring these kids to this country. They're not going to lose them to the gangs." MEI-LING HOPGOOD can be reached at Staff writer Jack Kresnak contributed to this report. {MARGINALIA}!--#include virtual="/index/fl_locway.fhtml"--> {KEYWORDS} CHILD; JUVENILE; GANG ; HMONG ; US Caption: Photo WILLIAM ARCHIE/Detroit Free Press

6 Metro Detroit: Left: Bee Vang teaches her first-grade class at Fleming Elementary School in Detroit. About 40 percent of the school's students are Hmong. Some districts, such as Detroit, Warren and Pontiac, provide bilingual staff for schools with many Hmong students. Metro Detroit: Above: Vince Vang helps patrons at the Seven Seas Trading store in Warren. About 7,000 Hmong live in metro Detroit. Green Bay, Wis.: Above: Khay Senngkha, left, and his wife, Nyia Senngkha, read the Bible during a class at the Hmong Pilgrim Lutheran Church. The Bible study class is also used to teach older Hmong to read. Green Bay, Wis.: Below: Five-year-olds Justin Jahnke, left, and Derreck Sengkhammee learn a Halloween song at their elementary school, where there are 125 Asian children, many of whom are part of the Hmong community. Detroit: "We really need help, but we don't know where to get help," said George yang, who owns Southeast Asia Trading, a food store in Detroit. Green Bay, Wis.: Mai Lee, 7, plays at her elementary school. Wisconsin has about 45,000 Hmong, one of the largest U.S. communities. Memo: SPECIAL REPORT: CAUGHT BETWEEN CULTURES; SEE RELATED ARTICLE, PAGE 6A Edition: METRO FINAL Section: NWS Page: 1A Record Number: Copyright (c) 1999 Detroit Free Press