Reality vs. Morality (by Duc Luu, Feb. 04, 2000)

Elian Gonzalez!
Haven't one heard enough of his name?
Friends recently wondered why I did not put any thought about this issue. What would that be? And from which angle should I look at? An immigrant who had shared a few tastes of communist’s doctrine and gimmick in which lacking of freedom had been a major concern? or a naïve Asian American whose the search for freedom was no longer major part of his goal in life; but instead the search for ways to heal and reconcile lost loves that he, and many similar others, had left behind?
Really! If one had asked all immigrants in this country, especially those who came from a dictatorial extreme regime where communism was considered one of those, the answer would be pretty much the same in the sense that it was 'crazy' to return the boy back to Cuba. It was a miracle journey to get to where the boy's mom wanted him to be, the United State's soil of America. On the other hand, if one had asked most of average common working class American families, the answer would be pretty much in favor of what the Attorney General Janet Reno did: retunring the boy back to his father who lived in Cuba.
Most Americans, including a few of my friends, did not think that it was right and legal to keep the boy here. To them, It was plain wrong, morally speaking, to cut the bond between the father and the son as some had voiced their concern.
So it was the reality (from most immigrants' point of view) versus the morality (from most Americans who originally were born and raised here, where the land of the rich and opportunity had made it seem so easy to practice the next level of human compassion in nature: healing the lost love per se.)
I am writing this article from an immigrant's point of view so that others would see what most immigrants might have had in mind.
Three years after communism from the North took over Saigon, South Vietnam, my mom wiped off her tears and sent my next older brother, whose age approached the military draft at the time, out to the sea so that he could avoid the military draft that he would end up dead in Cambodia anyway. For a better word, she wanted him to escape the communist regime at the time to seek a better life. My brother, like many other young teenager boys at the time, escaped the country on a rickety wooden boat in 1978. At the moment where dad and mom made the decision, neither one of them knew for sure if their son would get through the border's patrol. Neither was there any guarantee that mother nature would be kind enough to spare his life and let him make it to the other side of the ocean. There was one thing they knew for sure though, that the son they had raised for eighteen years was about to leave them for good. Although the destination was uncertain, the departure was determined by a simple reason: getting away from the regime where they saw no hope for their younger generations and many generations thereafter.
Two years later, in 1979, my oldest sister did the same thing to her husband. She sent him out to an unknown future where the only best she could do was to pray for him to reach on the other end successfully. My oldest niece, Tammy, was born in 1977, that meant my oldest sister were willing to stay home with her two-year old daughter and let her husband go out to the sea in hope that a better-tommorrow might come. And so did millions of other moms and wives who did it for their sons and husbands, just like what my mom and my sister did it for their own loved ones.
That was not easy. That was heart broken. But yet, that was the reality.
After communism took over the South, things changged. In the town where we lived, water fountains were shared publicly. Gossip had always been part of the daily activity. Nothing could barely avoid the public eyes. People would not bring their good quality food to show off there. Washing nice clothes or more expensive outfits were best known to be restrained as much as one could for just a simple reason: one never wanted to create a sense on envy or jealousy from neighbors.
People would hide their good stuff from their neighbors. one would not let others think that he was richer than the rest of others. The better one knows how to cover himself up with poverty, the better he would be left alone and living peacefully. There was no such thing as proud to be a successful family with decent meal each day without some sort of bribing going on among the "big dogs" in town. Living in fear, lying almost about everything, and covering up almost anything one knows were simply the survival kit for success under such regime. The system of human rights and the legality of things existed under the governement's language. That language did not usually go well with the common language that most other normal working class Vietnamese would speak. In a simple sentence to sum all these up: there was no such thing as freedom under communism. Now that was the reality.
Every society has the moral side of things of course. So did Vietnam; however, under such extreme condition, the morality side of thing played a backup role where the reality had to take place at first.
Living in such reaity, loving my brother and my brother-in-law did not mean that mean that my mom and my sister would not, and should not, cut the bond between them in that respect. They did it with their own bravery, but most importanly, they did it because of their loved-ones' future.
On the Western comfort zone, one tended to view think differently. People were born and raised in an environment where freedom was no longer a major motivation of all things, at least for this generation compared to the East. Basic human rights and freedom were at least established in this country when these generations were born. People therefore tended to take it for granted and advanced it to each out to another level of humanity mission: the compassion and the nurture for the love that should not mean to be broken.
It was fairly a reasonable understanding that the morality therefore took place easily since the harsh reality had never been part in this generation's agenda.
Is there a relationship between the two? The reality vs. the morality?
I remembered my senior year in college, to demo the reality vs. the morality, in one of the Bible study group sessions, I had asked the group imagine a scenario that was about to describe. Assuming in front of my door were a starving preacher, if I had a Bible in one hand and a bowl of food on the other, which one would one think that the preacher would likely accept first? None of my coleagues denied the fact that the preacher would have to fill out his stomach first before he could go on to preach his philosophy. So the reality took place first. Once one were completely satisfied and comfortable within one's reality, the morality factor would then take place easily. As odd as it sounded but the fact was still the fact that no one would preach with his empty stomach. Vietnamese had an old saying which simply state "Co' thu+.c mo+'i giu+.t ddu+o+.c dda.o". In English, that simply meant "To win over a hungy man, one should feed him food before feeding him lectures."
When Buddha first practiced Buddhism, he thought he could ignore his body’s need and concentrated directly to his meditation but he admitted that he was wrong for thinking as such. He suffered his physical condition enormously before realizing that he must physically fulfill his body's condition before he could fulfill his spiritual goal.
The most treasure thing that this generation (from the west) has been having, freedom, was something that the same generation on the other side of the globe (from the East) has been fighting for. The human rights were not there. The basic freedom of all things had never been part of their vocabulary. What the East treasures was not necessary what the West saw; and vice versa, what the West thought that might be best for a human being was not neccessarily what the East could not compromise at the moment.
The East and the West were not in the same page on this Elian Gonzalez’s issue.
Should he go home in Cuba or should he stay here in the U.S. soil depended on which angle one looked at. It was too bad that this saga turned out to be a political issue now.
Was Elian's father telling the truth of his own feeling or was he simply reading out loud what local authority wanted him to say remained in everyone's doubt.
No one could speak for either Gonzalez or his father on their behalf. However, I could speak for my mom and my sister in this regard. Vietnamese people, under the communist regime, were brainwashed at certain level. Kids were taught to hate America and restrain the temptation from the West at some point in life. Most of the first few waves of immigrants people had been down on that road before. They had done what they had to do to survive. Vietnamese communist literature, for the whole quarter of the last century, had nothing but full of hatred that pointed the blaming onto the West. However, the Vietnamese people themselves, for the past quarter of century, wave after wave, continued by all means, escaping the current regime and heading West.
The fact that my brother and my brother-in-laws made it safe. And Many others alike were not that lucky. Some died under sea and some got raped on their horrible journey. Despite all the dangers these people endured, wave after wave, they continued to escape the regime, cut the bonds with their loved ones, and leave behind their broken hearts. Were they all crazy as one should have the answer by now.
Another Vietnamese old saying would say, "La-rung-ve-coi", or plain and simple in Englis as "lost leaves would eventually find their way back to their root." No matter where Elian ended up physically, his love toward his dad would never be taken away emotionally.
My brother was still thankful for what my mom did for him 22 years ago. So was my brother-in-law being grateful for what his wife did for him 20 years ago. And so were millions of other fathers, husbands, brothers, and sons who had to suffer the loss to their loved ones for the moment so that they could plant their freedom seed for generations to come.
Had the West seen and understood the reality that the East endured, this kind of love-sacrifice by keeping Elian here would not be such a big issue to dispute.
Once again, it was an unfortunate thing that no one stood in the same angle to look at things. Writing from the the reality point of view, one, like myself, would clearly see which side would be worth more to sacrifice.
The West might never understand what the East was trying to say but at least the West could never deny the fact that a hungry man had to fill up his stomach before he could reach out to others. That simply sounded unfortunate but that was part of the reality that the East had been living with.
My moral of the story is plain and simple: The reality comes first then born the morality. It could take up to 10 years, 20 years, or even generations to see the fruit of freedom bear. A loss of a moment shouldn’t overwhelm the joy of a lifetime. Freedom does not come that cheap.

Duc Luu