Tu Lor Eh Paw

Tu Lor Eh Paw was born in Mutraw district in KawThooLei, the ancestral homeland of the Knyaw people, where she spent her early childhood living in the mountains with her family. Some of her happiest memories come from her village life. She remembers living simply, doing chores, eating meals together as a community, and running errands for neighbors who would pay her “snack money” to fetch things for them. One memory that stayed with her was receiving 100 baht for shoes. Her father told her to only buy what was important, and she came to understand the value of money. 

Much of Tu Lor’s upbringing was shaped by community. Her mother had passed away when she was two years old and her father worked to provide for the family. She was often cared for by the people of the village. One particular individual was her great aunt, who she treated as her own grandmother. Grandma became blind from an accident, but she taught Tu Lor how to see the beauty of the world. Tu Lor recalls, “she taught me how to pray. She would put me to bed every night, telling me stories.” The two were inseparable. Tu Lor was content with her humble life in KawThooLei, but her father wanted more for their family. He knew life was hard in the village, especially during the years when food was scarce and the rivers ran dry. Further, he wanted his children to have an education and to live without fear. 

In 2011, Tu Lor and her family moved to Mae La Oo refugee camp, located on the border of Myanmar and Thailand, where they lived for two years. Life changed significantly there, but she continued adapting to the new surroundings, making friends where she could. When her family learned they would be resettled in the United States, she felt both sadness and excitement. Leaving behind familiar people and places was difficult, but she also knew her family’s sacrifice would offer new opportunities. 

Tu Lor arrived in Minnesota when she was still young. She remembers feeling airsick and carsick during the long journey. She also remembers arriving with only two pairs of clothes and not being able to speak any English. Her family was placed in the Como apartments, where other Karen families helped them adjust to life in America. People stepped in to guide them through daily challenges, such as driving them around, helping them prepare paperwork, explaining government resources, and making meals for them. The transition felt less daunting because of their Karen neighbors.

She entered fifth grade while still learning how to navigate her new reality. Because of the language barrier, she naturally gravitated toward other Karen students who were also struggling to learn English. Her father became the sole provider as a factory worker for the family while the children focused on school. Watching him quietly sacrifice for his children deeply shaped her understanding of resilience. She describes her father as a man who never complained but consistently showed up for his family. Leaving behind the life he knew required great courage, and through his sacrifices, his children were able to receive an education, stable jobs, and eventually even own a home. Tu Lor and two of her older siblings all graduated from high school. Tu Lor became the first in her family to receive a full scholarship for college. All three of them have found their life partners and are now happily married. 

As Tu Lor grew older, she began to reflect on what resilience truly meant to her. She knows that Karen history is rooted in survival, from escaping war, displacement, and uncertainty. It has always been about trying to stay alive. But she believes the story of her people should not end there. “We are more than victims,” she says. She believes a growth mindset is necessary to change the narrative and reminds others that resilience should be used as strength and courage. Looking back at where her family came from motivates her to move forward with purpose. She hopes future generations will recognize that honoring their past does not mean being defined by hardship alone. Instead, she believes resilience should inspire confidence, leadership, and a commitment to creating new opportunities for the Karen community. 

Tu Lor now works as a Cultural Liaison and Community Specialist for the Karen population at the Saint Paul Public Library. Her work centers on making resources accessible and helping people feel welcomed. She teaches digital literacy classes for Karen adults, leads a book club for Karen young adults, and helps create community-centered programs and events. She believes libraries are more than its books; they are places where people can find resources, opportunity, and belonging. To Tu Lor, the library is a safe place that can help bridge generational gaps within immigrant families, especially between parents who cannot speak English and children who struggle to speak their native language. 

Her work is also personal because the Karen community lacks written records of their stories and history. “I wish there was a handbook of my ancestry,” she stated. She encourages people to write their stories, speak their truth, and ask questions as a way of preserving their cultural roots. All her life, she proudly educated others about the Karen people and their values, beliefs, traditions, and more. Although she sometimes grows tired of constantly explaining her identity to others, she knows it is something she will never stop doing. Her pride and joy comes from having taught a stranger about her people, making them aware of the Karen people’s existence. 

A few years ago, Tu Lor and her father visited KawThooLei where they were met with familiar faces. They were surrounded by loving hands, each welcoming them with a warm greeting, “tee bah na, tha ku,” directly translating to, “my heart rejoices in seeing you.” When her father peacefully passed away in their family home, she held him close in her arms, remembering all the sacrifices that brought her to America and the lesson of humility, community, and giving back. She honors her father’s legacy by empowering Karen youth to remember who they are, to dig deeper into their cultural roots, and to feel their ancestors’ courage run through their veins. She hopes young Karen people will see themselves as future leaders who can advocate for their communities while embracing both Karen heritage and their lives in the United States. Resilience for Tu Lor is remembering your roots while creating new opportunities for others to thrive.