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"To become a successful leader, begin by putting yourself in over your head." — Chanravy Proeung
Fighting for injustice is a labor of love for Chanravy Proeung, a Khmer American, who was catapulted into the role of an activist more than 10 years ago. Proeung's parents were refugees of the Viet Nam War. She became not only a first-generation American but the first in her family to graduate college, earning a degree in nursing in 2009 at Rhode Island College. Yet her life work would lead her back to the community, where she would pour all her energy into grassroots organizing and building a collectively resourced vision.
Proeung is former executive director of the Providence Youth Student Movement, which she led from 2010-2014. In 2016, on a Soros Justice Fellowship, she worked in solidarity with domestic and international groups around human rights violations against Southeast Asian Americans, twice testifying at the United Nations in Geneva about racial profiling, mass incarceration and mass deportation of Southeast Asians. In 2017 she co-founded SISTA FIRE, an organization that invests in the direct leadership of women of color.
In the following interview, Proeung talks about how she emerged as a leader in the effort to include the Southeast Asian community and women of color in the larger struggle for social justice in America.
On your social media site you posted the quote: "To become a successful leader, begin by putting yourself in over your head … putting yourself in the deep end." It takes a lot of courage to jump in the deep end, doesn't it?
Yes, but I think if you want to create change, you have to step out of fear. One of my other favorite quotes is by Audre Lorde, who said, "When I dare to be powerful – to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid."
When did you decide to become an activist?
While I was in college, there had been a series of suicides of young men in the Southeast Asian community – four in total, and all back-to-back, including a close relative. I realized something was very wrong within my community, and I needed to find out what it was.
Many Vietnamese, Laotians, Hmongs and Cambodians came to America as a result of war and genocide in their countries. I saw a lot of mental health issues that went unaddressed. My grandmother was clearly struggling with PTSD but there was no translator for her at the hospital. I started to see the holes and inconsistencies in the system and I left college pissed.
• Suicide was the leading cause of death for Asian Americans ages 15-24 in 2017.
• Asian American females in grades 9-12 were 20 percent more likely to attempt suicide as compared to non-Hispanic white female students in 2017.
• Southeast Asian refugees are at risk for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) associated with trauma experienced before and after immigration to the United States. One study found that 70 percent of Southeast Asian refugees receiving mental health care were diagnosed with PTSD.
• The overall suicide rate for Asian Americans is half that of the non-Hispanic white population.
I volunteered for PrYSM – the Providence Youth Student Movement. I had been searching for what it means to be a Southeast Asian in America, and I found my identity there. PrYSM helped me understand where my community came from – the history of migration, war, genocide and survival here in the United States.
I saw how we inherited American racism. There was a lot of racial profiling of Southeast Asian men. That criminalizing narrative pushed a lot of our young men into the juvenile justice system, just like Black and Latino men. Gangs formed because of a lack of social support. There were no supports to access jobs, no translation and interpretation for our community, and no access to any other social services. All of these issues are based in systemic racism – the root cause of inequality.
I began asking, "What can I do for my community?" I saw that I was more effective in the community as an organizer than as a nurse.
Why was SISTA FIRE created?
SISTA FIRE came out of necessity. My partner in this work, Ditra Edwards, had returned to Rhode Island after over 20 years of working in the national field. We began to have conversations, asking, “What kind of support systems do Black women, Indigenous women, Southeast Asian women, Latinx women, trans women have in the State of Rhode Island?” “Where is the leadership pipeline for the growth and development of women of color?” And “How do we create a space that can support and nurture leadership in women, build collective power and change political conditions?”
Where does change for SISTA FIRE start?
The most important part of any process of change is grounding the work in the communities that are directly impacted, talking to folks who have the lived experience, allowing them to tell their stories and developing not only community-led solutions but a collective vision for change. Once you get disconnected from that base and forget to listen to your community, then you're no longer creating change.
What issues in the community are SISTA FIRE currently working on?
Right now, we're providing economic relief to community members as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic. We're developing a campaign for reproductive justice to address Black maternal and infant mortality. Black women are four times more likely to die in the hospital giving birth than white women. And we're addressing police violence against black and brown bodies through the lens of gender-based violence.
At the end of the day, SISTA FIRE's work is about changing systemic racism and oppression through leadership development. I lead what we call a Sista Circle; it's a 13-week training for women of color who are interested in organizing. We're fighting for a new world. This current system of violence against black and brown bodies is not working for us anymore. We're tired of our kids dying by the hands of the police. We're tired of the public education system not nourishing our kids' brain development, their critical-thinking skills and their identity. We want basic housing, universal health care. You have people wondering if they should pay their rent or buy food.
Do you see yourself ever returning to nursing?
I would like to do nursing, but every time I try to galvanize in that direction, I get pulled back into fighting for the community. That's where my heart is. The community needs us.
This interview has been edited and condensed.