May Herning Vang-Kue, 31

In the United States 1990’s: “He asked me if I wanted to go home with him on that warm breezy evening of June 24. I replied confidently with, ‘Yes, let’s go.’ I already knew that as soon as I had walked out of my house earlier that day, my parents would not allow me back. I was not given permission to leave, especially to see my boyfriend. My life as a 15-year-old was my family and school, no extracurricular activities, no sports and limited friends. My mother said it was for my own good and protection and one day I would understand. I resent the fact that my brothers were given freedom and were able to go anywhere, while all the daughters stayed home. It’s as if our intentions were always evil.

My family is large, consisting of my parents, eight daughters and four sons. I am the fifth child. My maternal grandmother also lived with us. My grandmother was a walking machine that spat out constant criticism. She disapproved of everything the daughters did and made comments that we were ‘worthless, good-for-nothing daughters’ and we were ‘property waiting to be sold off.’ She was angry all the time and filled our heads with the guilt of being born a female. Nothing we did was ever good enough. Since she was an elder in the house, we never dared stand up for ourselves and neither did anyone else.
We endured her daily psychological abuse from as early as 5-years-old.

I saw how my older sisters married, and I was determined to marry someone I chose and loved. My oldest sister was married at 15 to a man who saw her once, liked her, and then took her to be his wife. My second oldest sister was coerced into a marriage by my parents that ‘best fit’ her, promising income and stability. She married an older man whose first wife had died, leaving him and five children. She instantly became a mother and wife
at 14-years-old.

I stared out the car window as the moon moved across the shimmering sky with doubt and panic engulfing my mind. ‘What did I just do? Is this right what I am doing? Will his family like me? Will I like them? I hope I’m not making a mistake? Did I just throw my future education away by choosing to get married?’ My parents had always emphasized education as the means for all of us children to have a secure future and enriched life. School was what I knew I did best, and I knew I could succeed.

Once I settled into my married life, I thought I would be given more freedom to make my own decisions. I was wrong. My life with my in-laws became even more restrictive than before. My husband and I had to have permission to go places, and we were treated like two little children being told what to do.

Even though I did everything I was told, I was never given credit or acknowledged. As if I was not yet a part of the family and had to prove my worth or that I simply didn’t exist. When I told my husband this, he said I wasn’t trying hard enough to get along with his family. At those times, I felt so alone and hurt because no one believed me or understood how I felt. All I wanted was to be accepted and loved.

After graduating from high school in 1992, my husband and I moved back to Green Bay so I could continue my education. We left with the clothes on our backs as we humbly stumbled back to my mother.

In 1994, I had my first daughter while I was in my second year of college. I began my studies in pharmaceuticals. That led to another difficult decision I had to make – leaving my infant daughter and husband for pharmacy school in Madison, Wisconsin . I felt terrible for leaving my only child with my husband and in-laws but I knew I had to finish what I started. Sometimes I wondered if I was doing the right thing. I was laden with guilt knowing my daughter was growing up in her most crucial moments without her mother.”

Today May Herning (Vang) Kue is a Manager at Shopko Pharmacy in Green Bay, Wisconsin. She has been married to Yang Kue for 16 years and is a mother of two daughters, ages 11 and 5.

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Excerpt from May Herning's story, written and photographed by Kou Vang