My son asks me.
“You mean, yawm txiv?”
“Yes. What is yawm txiv’s favorite color?”
“I don’t know.”
It never occurred to me to ask my dad about his favorite color despite the fact that I encourage my kids to figure out their favorite color–to know theirs, to know mine, to know their dad’s and to ask others too. And in doing so, my kids randomly insert my favorite color into our conversations regularly as a demonstration that THEY KNOW ME.
He looks at me like this is beyond preposterous. He immediately launches into how he knows my favorite color, his dad’s favorite color, his sister’s favorite color and also retraces how his favorite color has changed from blue to black to pink. He even shares why he loves pink now. Why does he act this way? BECAUSE knowing someone’s favorite color is a fundamental yet primary piece of knowledge about a person in his world and in America. And I am immediately reminded that my son is a Hmong American kid raised by a Hmong American—knowing someone’s favorite color is one of the first things you learn about yourself and one of the first things you learn about someone you want to get to know better.
It also reminds me what happens when we lose a language; we lose a way of communicating with those we care about and love. We also lose a way to share our experiences with each other and thus, we lose the basic skills of how to build and develop those relationships.
I don’t know if back in Laos when my father was a young boy, if he ever thought about having a favorite color. If he was ever taught that knowing his favorite color was an integral part to knowing himself. Or if he was just too busy trying to survive to think about such luxuries as color preferences. I don’t know if the secret war activities that preceded the ACTUAL war disrupted his typical Hmong childhood development of such knowledge. These are all complex questions with complicated answers that require much more Hmong words than I can muster to ask in this moment. Least yet, the emotional energy that sits on top of that nascent knowledge. So, this conversation starts with a much simpler question with a straightforward answer.
Yawm txiv, what is your favorite color?
Yawm txiv, koj nyiam xim dabtsi heev tshaj?
or
Yawm txiv, koj pom hais tias xim dabtsi yog xim zoo tshaj rau koj tus kheej?
To answer this question, we’ll have to learn the colors in Hmong.
Here are some fun books about colors.
And when you are ready, play some of these color games or create some of your own games with these cards.
Then bring them to a loved one’s home and read the books together and play the games with them.
My dad thoroughly enjoyed trying to match colors in the Memory Game and even became competitive when he realized his aging memory was not as quick as his grandkid’s burgeoning brains. It filled my heart because I got to see my dad laugh. And for a minute, he looked a lot younger, his face got a little brighter and his presence became lighter in the room. In that moment, I wondered if this is how it would have been for him to be a carefree kid just trying to win a game against his friends in Laos.
And when you are done. And the cards are all packed away. And the books are all read. And everyone knows their colors in Hmong (well, maybe not just yet), take a moment and ask them about their favorite color and tell them why you love your favorite color too.
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