Tran's family left Vietnam three years after the fall of Saigon. She shares her story about how the war affected her family's life.

JOURNEY BEGINS

What is interesting is that my parents left Vietnam when they were my age now. I can't begin to imagine what it would be like going through a war, living through war and making decisions to leave a country in unknown waters.

My dad was working as a pharmacist and my mom was working as a court clerk, but they could no longer live under the communist regime.

My mom told me about cases of people being sentenced to death for stealing or speaking out against the government. She couldn't take it anymore.

In 1978, my parents were married and escaped by a fishing boat. My mom had a miscarriage on the boat. There was blood everywhere. They had nothing to treat her with except water and not very clean water.

I remember my father talking briefly about how he promised to write a letter to my grandmother once they got to shore. There were no writing instruments, so he had to use my mom's blood. The letter said they arrived and were OK. My grandmother still has the letter. My mom doesn't talk about it.

My parents and uncles landed in a refugee camp in Hong Kong and spent 10 months there until a family in Laguna Beach sponsored them to come to Orange County in 1980. They later settled in Long Beach, where I was born.

My parents owned a pharmacy in the heart of Little Saigon; my three sisters and I would work with our parents after school.

For as long as I can remember, there were anti-communist demonstrations near the pharmacy. Protesters would store things there and hang out with my dad. My three sisters and I were recruited to assemble South Vietnamese flags and put up posters.

VISITING VIETNAM

I went to Vietnam for the first time in 1990 to meet my grandparents in Saigon. I was only 10, but it was a turning point in my life. When my grandmother went to church, I saw this little girl on the street who was just 14 or 15.

She was in a struggle with this man. I pointed to the girl and told my grandmother that this man was hurting her. She just kept dragging me to church and told me not to interfere with other people's affairs. It was 6 in the morning. People were walking by and glanced and rushed away.

I later realized this girl was being raped. It was on the street, and no one did anything. I still have the image in my head. I kept looking back, and she saw me looking at her. I could see the tears and her crying. I never saw the man's face. I never saw her again.

I asked my grandmother a few years ago why didn't she do anything. She said it wasn't our job to interfere in other people's business. I asked her, "She was being raped, right? Wasn't she being raped?" but she didn't say anything. That really affected me.

BACK HOME

After I came back, I tried to understand why my dad was so involved with the Vietnamese-American community. I wrote reports on Vietnam every chance I got in high school and college. The experience I had in Vietnam grew into a mission to help young Vietnamese girls get out of the cycle of sexual assault, violence and prostitution.

My dad is still involved with bringing democracy and human rights to Vietnam and to eradicate communism. But that doesn't affect me as much as the problems faced by a young girl who prostitutes herself. How can these things happen?

We need to change the situation, so this girl and other girls like her can have different options in life.

My mom still inspires me to care about Vietnam. She graduated from law school and gave up her dreams of becoming Vietnam's first female judge to give her family a better future. I think that's the biggest motivation for me. I can see the sacrifices she makes every day. The sacrifices should be for something.