Novia

Novia Josiah-Isaac was born in Mae Sot, Thailand, where her family sought refuge after fleeing Myanmar. Long before she became a psychotherapist and mental health social worker, she was a young girl learning how to navigate a world that constantly reminded her she did not fully belong. Growing up undocumented in Thailand shaped many parts of her childhood. Her family lived carefully, always aware of the risks and limitations that came with their status. She attended a private school because public opportunities were limited for undocumented children. While she learned Thai and English in school, she spoke the Karen/K’Nyaw language at home. Now, she speaks Thai, English, Karen, and Burmese fluently. Her multilingual abilities have become an important part of her work, which allows her to connect with clients in culturally meaningful ways while honoring the languages that shaped her own identity. 

Some of Novia’s earliest memories are tied to survival. She remembers not being allowed to wear ‘ter nah ka’, a traditional yellow face cream, because it would make her Karen identity more visible in Thailand. Even as a child, she understood that being visibly Karen could bring about discrimination or unwanted attention for her family. At home, Novia was raised with strong Karen values. Respect for elders, obedience, humility, and preserving family reputation were all equally important. Like many Karen girls, she grew up understanding the unspoken rules of being “a good girl.” Children were expected to listen, not question authority, and carry themselves in ways that reflected well on their families. Novia describes herself as quiet and obedient during her adolescence. 

When Novia was thirteen, her father left Thailand for the United States as an asylum seeker. Two years later, she and the rest of her family joined him in Minnesota. At fifteen years old, Novia entered ninth grade in High School and was placed in ESL Level 3. Although the transition was overwhelming at times, she also remembers feeling surprised and comforted by how many Karen families lived in Minnesota. For the first time, she saw Karen people openly existing in large communities rather than trying to be invisible. 

One of the most meaningful parts of resettlement for Novia was finally having documentation. After years of living with fear and uncertainty in Thailand, she remembers feeling relieved that her family now had proof they belonged somewhere. She recalls thinking, “We are free, we are legal.” That feeling of safety and dignity is one that stays with many Karen people who now reside outside of Thailand. 

Still, adjusting to life in Minnesota was not easy. Novia had to navigate new cultural expectations while balancing her Karen identity. Back home, questioning authority was often seen as disrespectful, but in America she learned that speaking up and advocating for yourself is important. She learned to become more assertive and found her voice. She worked hard academically, competed for scholarships, and pushed herself to success. During those years, Novia felt drawn toward psychology and emotional healing. She was interested in understanding how people cope with hardship and trauma. Eventually, she studied social work and became one of the first social workers in her community. Her father, who worked as a resettlement case manager, supported her decision. Her mother initially struggled to understand what therapy was because mental health services were unfamiliar to her. Over time, however, she became more supportive after learning more about the profession. 

As a licensed therapist, Novia dedicated her career to serving survivors of trauma, domestic violence, torture, and displacement. She spent ten years working at the Center for Victims of Torture in Saint Paul, supporting many refugee families whose experiences were painful reminders of where her people had come from. Hearing stories of violence and suffering affected her emotionally, but she also witnessed the resilience in each client. She saw people showing up and living, which she considers “a win already.” Her own lived experience gave her a unique ability to build trust with clients who often felt misunderstood, creating spaces where they could openly share their stories without the fear of judgment.

Through her work, Novia also became increasingly aware of the stigma surrounding mental health in her community. She explains that many Karen families were taught to cope with pain by minimizing it or forgetting about it. There is a Karen saying she quotes: “If it’s big, you make it smaller; if it’s small, you make it disappear.” Survival often required people to suppress emotions because there were few resources or opportunities to process trauma. However, Novia believes resilience should not mean ignoring trauma. Instead, she validates people’s experiences while encouraging them to heal in healthy ways. She recognizes that many people simply never had the language or education to talk about mental health openly. Healing begins with listening, building trust, and helping people feel seen rather than ashamed. She also believes in the healing power of community. She values psychoeducation, group support and social connection because to her, repair happens not only individually but collectively, through relationships and shared understanding. 

Today, Novia carries these same values into motherhood. She wants her children to grow up knowing that emotions are valid and that seeking help should never feel shameful. She teaches emotional regulation, accountability, and the importance of apologizing after mistakes. She hopes to model empathy, honesty, and healthy communication. Throughout every stage of her life, Novia has remained rooted in her Karen identity while also embracing her American identity. She describes herself as “Karen-American” and believes in preserving Karen culture, language, and traditions while growing through new experiences. Through her role as a therapist, mother, and advocate, Novia Josiah-Isaac has become a bridge between generations and cultures.