This Asian Pacific American Heritage Month, we’ll be sharing stories from past and present staff on their thoughts of how organizing and art interplay. Check for a new story each week.
Former AAOP Civic Engagement Manager Pashie Vang hadn’t considered working in organizing or in politics until her brother suggested she try applying for a summer field organizing position, where she began to learn more about the community and the people she lived with.
The idea of change through conversations was something new and exciting, Pashie says.
Stepping into organizing, Pashie is reminded of her past experiences with her family and especially her mom.
“Organizing has a lot to do with community and family events,” Pashie says. “In the Hmong community, we invite people we know that support our ‘cause’ or event.”
As an organizer, the work can be tiring. So for Pashie, she creates an intentional space for self-care through art: knitting, modern calligraphy, painting, pole dancing, and playing the qeej. Art in organizing shows up in the way healing organizing work is done.
For Pashie, pole dancing and playing the qeej is empowering.
The qeej is a Hmong instrument made of bamboo and traditionally played by men at funerals to guide the spirits of those who passed away. But that didn’t stop Pashie from wanting to learn it and connect with her grandparents.
“That’s why I wanted to start learning the qeej. I was trying to connect with someone who was far away,” Pashie says.
Today, the qeej is often played at big events including weddings, ceremonies, and more.
Pashie shares that after learning that her friend had also been practicing the qeej, the two of them would spend almost every weekend performing together in high school. While Pashie currently does not perform regularly, she still practices and on the rare occasion, perform with her friend when asked.
As a college student, Pashie began looking for other ways to express herself and she found another form through pole dancing.
“It’s a way to express my sexuality, express my femininity and my strength,” Pashie says. “There’s also a sort of masculinity in terms of feeling powerful. That’s all within my pole dancing so I love that.”
The dichotomy between the traditional qeej and feminine association with pole dancing empowers Pashie. And that uplifts her work in organizing.