Arriving at the Charlotte Douglas International Airport on an early Monday morning in April 2024, I found myself facing a familiar scene: long lines of people waiting at the security checkpoint. Having traveled by air many times before, I knew exactly where to go. Following the signs, I made my way directly to gate C10, bound for Pennsylvania to visit our Church World Service (CWS) local offices.
Site visits are part of my role at CWS. I am one of the CWS program officers for community engagement. We work with various CWS offices and programs across the nation. These offices and programs are involved in humanitarian efforts, refugee support and community development. I work with a team that focuses on community engagement. We collaborate with local communities, churches and other stakeholders to ensure that CWS initiatives resonate with the needs and aspirations of the communities we serve. We provide essential resources to the CWS offices, affiliates and programs, which include training materials, best practices, funding opportunities and more. Additionally, we support teamwork and collaboration by connecting different parts of the organization and facilitating joint efforts.
As I settled into my seat at the airport gate, I glanced at the time. A sense of calm washed over me—I had arrived early for my boarding. My mind wandered back to the year 2005, when my mother, younger sister and I navigated another airport hand in hand, our hearts racing. Everything felt unfamiliar; it was our inaugural flight, and we grappled with the language barrier. We spoke only our native tongue, Jarai, a dialect of the Montagnards, and broken Vietnamese. The bystanders pointed us toward our gate based on the documents clutched in our hands.
At one point, we found ourselves in a hotel, bewildered by the sudden change. Exhausted, jet-lagged and overwhelmed, we followed instructions blindly. The hotel’s amenities—the toilet, the shower, the sink—were unlike anything we’d encountered in the motels of Saigon, Vietnam. Before embarking on this journey, we lived in a small Montagnard village in the Central Highlands of Vietnam where there was no running water or modern bathrooms. In our confusion, we tried to bathe ourselves on the bathroom floor, assuming the water would drain as it did in Saigon’s motels. Instead, we inadvertently created a mess.
We anxiously checked our door, hoping for guidance. It wasn’t until the next day that someone finally appeared, escorting us back to the airport. Another flight awaited us, propelling us toward our final destination—a reunion with my father. After multiple flights, we eventually landed in North Carolina, our new home. Throughout the journey, fear and uncertainty clung to us, yet somehow, against all odds, we miraculously reached our destination.
Arriving in the United States as a newcomer was a profound and transformative experience for me. The journey to this land of opportunity was filled with fear, uncertainty and, especially, hope. Like countless others, I carried dreams and memories from my homeland, seeking safety and a chance at a better life. My parents, grandparents, all the way to my ancestors—farming was their main occupation. I had the opportunity to get an education; I am the first one in my family to graduate from college.
The stories of fellow newcomers echoed around me: tales of survival, loss and resilience. Some had fled conflict, while others sought refuge from persecution. But we all carried the same flame of hope—the belief that America would offer us a fresh start.
Reflecting on my journey, I feel immense gratitude for the resettlement programs that facilitated my transition. Now, in my new country, I am presented with many opportunities. Life has come full circle, and I find purpose in working with an organization that assists individuals like me—those seeking refuge and a safe place to call home.
Vung Ksor works in Greensboro, North Carolina, as CWS’ Program Officer for Community Engagement.