Kyaw Kyaw Lwin

Born in Brigade 7 in Kawthoolei, Kyaw Kyaw Lwin was raised in Mae Sot, Thailand, before eventually coming to the United States. His childhood was shaped by displacement, but also friendship, school, and the joys of growing up without fully understanding the dangers surrounding him. When Kyaw Kyaw was young, his family lived in Mae Sot for four or five years. They were undocumented and had to live quietly, always aware of the Thai police. They could not move freely or live openly. Eventually, his parents made the decision to move the family into a refugee camp because they believed it would be safer. 

As a child, Kyaw Kyaw did not understand the seriousness of their circumstances. His memories of that period are surprisingly innocent. He remembers enjoying his childhood without worrying about what was happening around him. Looking back now as an adult, he understands how difficult those years must have been for his parents. They had to build a life in circumstances where very little was guaranteed. Leaving the refugee camp to find work elsewhere in Thailand was extremely difficult, and opportunities for refugees were limited. For many, the most realistic options were to work within the camp as teachers, medics, or in other essential roles. 

Kyaw Kyaw is grateful that his family was able to remain safe. They did not have to flee from the  horrors of the Burmese military the way his neighbors did. His parents made the most of what little they had. The refugee camp provided shelter, food, education, and a foundation for a future. For Kyaw Kyaw, he remembers a childhood where he felt safe enough to simply be a child. That perspective has stayed with him. He often reminds himself to “see people as people.” Because he knows what hardship can look like, he does not judge someone based on their circumstances or the life they have been given.

In 2008, Kyaw Kyaw’s family came to the United States. Like many children arriving in America, he had expectations shaped by what he had heard about the country. America had been described as a land of abundance but his first experiences in America were far from it. It was more about learning how to navigate an unfamiliar world. One of his earliest memories is walking through the snow in March wearing a jean jacket and Converse shoes. He was trying to find his cousin’s house but became lost because all the houses looked the same. He wandered for nearly six hours, cold and alone. 

He was too frightened and shy to ask strangers for help. He saw an older white woman whom he thought looked kind, but he could not bring himself to approach her. When she eventually came toward him, he could only say a few words: “Don’t know home. I’m Karen.” When she could not help him, Kyaw Kyaw continued wandering. He came upon a playground and noticed a mother and a child. He circled the playground a few times before working up the courage to approach them. His English was extremely limited, so he tried to communicate using whatever words he knew. One of those words was “Mcdonald’s.” 

The woman drove him around town, stopping at McDonald’s locations, trying to help him find his family. Eventually, a police officer found him and helped escort him home. The experience was jarring and has since stayed with Kyaw Kyaw because it was one of the first times he understood what it meant to feel invisible. He was not simply a lost child who could not speak English. He realized that the people around him did not know who he was or where he came from. They did not know what it meant to be Karen. “In the moment of struggle, I couldn’t find resources because people did not know who we were,” he remembers. That experience shaped his purpose. He wanted people to learn and to know. 

For Kyaw Kyaw, cultural identity is not just preserving traditions, it is about creating an understanding between people. To say that “our voices and our stories matter.” He points to practices such as betel nut chewing and thanaka, a traditional yellow paste commonly used in Myanmar. Karen people who chew betel nut may have heavily discolored teeth. He believes situations like these can change when people take the time to understand the culture behind a practice rather than immediately judging what they see. 

To understand someone, he believes, you first have to understand where they come from. America provided Kyaw Kyaw opportunities, but he also recognized that freedom does not erase barriers. Being born outside the United States can create limitations and can cause people to feel like outsiders. What keeps him moving forward is remembering how far his family has already come. His parents’ sacrifices made it possible for him to grow up with opportunities they never had. That knowledge gives him a deep respect for his parents and a sense of responsibility to make something meaningful from what they sacrificed. 

His resilience comes from remembering that difficult moments do not last forever. “When you become emotional, there are a lot of bad things that come into your mind,” he says. Sometimes, he reminds himself to keep going for another minute, another hour, another day. Eventually, things can change completely. That belief also applies to his work within the Karen community. 

Kyaw Kyaw is involved with KCOM, the Karen Community of Minnesota, an organization dedicated to celebrating and preserving Karen culture. Although the organization is small and has limited funding, he believes its work is important, especially for younger Karen people who are gradually losing their language and knowledge of their history. One of KCOM’s most important events is the Karen New Year celebration. The event brings Karen families together to celebrate their heritage and pass traditions to the next generation. Traditional Don dancing is an important part of the celebration, connecting today’s community with their ancestors through the rhythm and beat of the drums. 

KCOM is intentionally focused on culture rather than religion. Kyaw Kyaw remembers experiences where cultural participation became connected to church membership, and he believes there should be a space where Karen people can come together simply because they share a heritage. 

Above all, Kyaw Kyaw’s work is about making sure that Karen people are not invisible. He knows what it feels like to be a child standing in the snow, unable to explain who he is. He knows what it feels like to need help while realizing that the people around you do not know how to understand you. That experience has pushed him to teach, to celebrate, and to preserve. Kyaw Kyaw believes that identity gives people something to stand on and he hopes that people can learn from one another.