Generational divide in Vietnam, U.S.: Young people, elders don’t listen to each other

With a colleague in Vietnam, Ms. Dau Thuy Ha, I’m finishing up a book and a documentary film episode (way out of my comfort zone) about a particular group of people from northern Vietnam.

Books are tough to write, and I whine while I’m in the middle of writing, but a film is a completely new world for me. Thank goodness, we are working with a fabulous Idaho-based team from 1890 Productions.

The book and film tackle some changes Vietnam has gone through from wartime through famine in the 1980s to the recent economic boom. The people we profile bridged the time from being children during war to being leaders of the country’s business firms, universities and government agencies today.

We call them The Bridge Generation. Their parents’ generation and ancestors had lived the same way for hundreds of years. Our friends’ children now are global citizens.

An underlying theme in the documentary — the first of what we hope will be seven episodes — is the shift in culture, from “we to me.” The Bridge Generation grew up in a culture of community (“we”) when people pulled together, helped each other and shared food to survive. The younger generation is moving toward a feeling of individualism (“me”), where self-expression and individual achievement overpower constant worry about making money.

Some of the misunderstanding between the groups stems in part from the older generation not talking about their experiences to younger people and, when they do, the younger generation not wanting to hear much.

That plays out anywhere, from families to business, going in both directions: Old people often don’t ask questions or listen, and the young don’t either. (And that’s not just in Vietnam. The Wall Street Journal had a recent article about how many older Americans find they can no longer ask parents about their lives because dementia is settling in, making those memories impossible to access.)

Before we lose the chance to learn from people who lived history, I hope we begin to ask and listen.

During my interviews with people in Vietnam, one young Vietnamese woman joined me to interview a friend of her mother’s. The friend shared stories of hardship. My co-interviewer seemed taken aback and said, “I didn’t listen when my mother tried to tell me about these events. I apologize on the part of my generation. I should listen more. I should ask more.”

And she has. Maybe more of us need to do the same.

Nancy Napier is a Boise State University distinguished professor. nnapier@boisestate.edu