On the Anniversary of Tam's Birth

Remembering Tam on the anniversary of her birth. What would she be like today? How would her life have turned out? She loved music, learned to play the piano, and had a crush on Joey from NSYNC.

I remember when she first arrived, we were told Tam was blinded by her mother as a child and had been in the orphanage for years. Tam didn’t know how to speak English, there was no preparation on how to receive her.

The first few weeks Tam spent in bed. She played a cassette she brought with her and cried and cried through the lyrics of the songs she had sung with her friends she left behind at the orphanage. To her, they were family. Their music kept them connected.

Another newborn baby showed up around the same time as Tam. Barely 24 hours after his birth, he’s introduced to us as our new brother. His mother was a drug addict and deemed legally unfit to parent him. It was a tumultuous time for everyone in that home.

Through the years, Tam learned to adjust, she assimilated to embrace being American and sever any ties to Vietnam. As I look back now, Tam was taken from her homeland just as I had been. She was assimilated into the suburban New England life in America. Like the rest of us, she was targeted and bought to play a role in an elaborate fantasy.

No one explained the rules, or let us in on the scheme, told us what was expected of us. We learned in time and far too many victims like Tam pay with their lives. The burden of being used to take on the unresolved pain from others is too great to put on any child.

The industry that runs this global child supply market has profited by targeting the vulnerable. Taking and selling other people’s children for those who are desperate to find relief from their own pain, grief, loss has grown into a multibillion dollar global trafficking market.

I never got to see the real Tam and she never got to see the real me. We were both trapped in a fantasy of someone else’s design and purpose. We laughed, we played, and in our own ways we looked out for each other. Tam confided in me and I listened. I was her older brother after all.

We were both aware and silently outraged with how we were being treated. Tam was perceptive and observant. She was bright and intuitive. Like many of, she was mature in many ways, and yet naive and innocent. The burden, the abuse, the injustice ended when she took her life.

The world may believe it was an accidental death, believe that it was her blindness that caused her to overdose, but when you’ve walked the same path, shared the same experience, put through the same industry, there is no mistaking the kind of pain we are forced to carry.

I wish I got to know the real Tam and at the same time, I wish we never met. I wish we lived in a world that didn’t buy and sell us. A world where we stay in the lives we’re born into and not trapped in a fantasy. A world where our parents and families are supported. A world that simply doesn’t exploit children.

Yesterday, I wept for Tam and for all of us. For me, this inescapable, lifelong pain manifests differently year to year. This time, my tears come with resolve. I may be liberated from the industry and its propaganda, but am living with the truth of what was done to us. Given all the lies and brainwashing I’ve endured, I will take the truth every time. If we were told the truth from the start, I wonder if Tam, Lark and Thaddeus would still be alive.

How many more of us would still be alive if this industry hadn’t taken, trafficked, and killed us? This is what I hope Tam’s legacy will be remembered for, the truth. I will continue to be her voice. I hope others will join me.