I was first introduced to the Census during a dance practice. In a welcome reprieve from the sweltering summer heat, I learned how to dance to the beat of hollow Burmese traditional drums and the eerie whistles of bamboo flutes in a mirrored room of Monterey Park’s Langley Senior Citizen Center. Surrounded by Burmese people of all ages, we laughed and practiced together over traditional Burmese snacks—faluda and kaut swe thote.
While chatting with my friends during break time, a coordinator handed each of us pamphlets detailing data of Burmese-Americans compiled from the last Census in 2010. I thought nothing of it at the time, looking through it flippantly and shoving it into my bookshelf when I got home. Even when I was asked to design a logo for a Complete Count Burmese-Americans campaign, I didn’t quite understand what the Census was, or the impact it might have—after all, I was barely 16. How could it have affected me?
This summer, I’ve come to recognize how important the Census is, not just as a mandatory federal survey, but as something that might indefinitely alter the community that I found home in, for better or for worse.
For some context, I am beyond lucky to have such a welcoming and tight-knit community of Burmese-Americans in the first place, and even to have such a community at all. There are over 6,000 Burmese Americans in LA County alone, the largest concentration of them in the country. It’s a community composed of immigrants, an endearing amalgamation of Burmese, Chinese, and American identities, much like the food at the weekly dance practices in Monterey Park. But we are merely 6,000 of almost five million in LA County. Thus, despite the seemingly dense enclave of Burmese Americans in the region, opportunities to connect with community members are scarce.
I’ve fortunately found a ‘home’. Most others have not. The Network of Myanmar American Association’s Cultural Dance Academy is a completely free opportunity for anyone to participate in the sharing of Burmese traditional culture. It’s a dance academy in name and for me, but I know that for many parents and adults, it’s a connection to a home 3,000 miles across the Pacific. And for all of us, it is an integral connection to our ethnic and cultural roots as immigrants or children of immigrants. I believe that the Census provides opportunities for programs like this one, for events that allow Burmese Americans to pursue self-advancement, for us all to find community among one another. After all, it is in these groups and within these connections that we truly find solace.
I recently remembered the pamphlet that I had been given last summer, and pulled it out during an orientation on the Census project that we would be working on this summer—”Burmese Americans in the United States: Who We Are.” Flipping through it, I found statistics that only confirmed what I had previously held in my brain to be cloudy ideas. That the average household income of Burmese-Americans is almost $20,000 lower than the American average, that about 35% live under the poverty line, that only 29% of Burmese-Americans identified as speaking English “very well.” I recognized then that language access and outreach is absolutely critical, especially in communities without access to supplemental materials—language barriers are incredibly difficult to overcome, and much of that is by design. Census data is integral to our collective narrative, especially when culturally specific, in-language messengers are able to connect to a broader global community. Luckily, Burmese is one of the languages offered by the Census, but it’s not enough to assure a complete count.
Throughout this project, and even in the future, I ask of the Census: how can it help us gain a sense of agency and rebuild communities? But I know it’s not just about the communities. It’s about increasing funding for Medicaid, Title I education grants, housing, SNAP, and many other federal programs that Burmese-Americans critically need. It’s ensuring that Burmese-Americans and other undercounted AANHPI groups have these programs to then build communities around each other.
How can I, as a Burmese-American with 3rd-grade conversational level Burmese, reach out to the communities I care about, not only in the San Gabriel Valley and beyond, and use the skills that I have at my disposal to ensure a complete count? To try my best to guarantee that others can find communities like the one I have found?
These are not questions that I can answer in a single summer, nor in a decade. These are questions I will continue to pursue throughout my life, but will start seeking solutions this summer, through CLA, and through the Census.