LITTLE ROCK — As we prepared to leave for Kentucky to attend Daw Aung San Suu Kyi’s talk at the University of Louisville on September 24th this year, I remembered the first time I saw her in Yangon 21 years ago.
I was a third-year college student hanging out at home because colleges were closed due to countrywide popular demonstrations led by students. When I heard the news of her talk at the National League for Democracy office in my township of San Chaung, I politely informed my father and my aunt of my decision to go and listen to her.
Their response was, “Be careful.”
Off I went, almost running.
As I waited by the league office with many others, a sedan carrying Daw Suu drove in. Many of us rushed to the window to get a glimpse of her.
There, I saw a beautiful smile which was so genuine and big. And she wore makeup with bright red lipstick.
I thought to myself,Wow, someone who seems genuinely happy to see us and quite bold.
Then she started talking on a stage set up in front of the office. Some of us sat on the pavement, and some stood.
There was a military truck parked nearby with a few soldiers with their weapons at the ready. Rifles or AK-47-I am not familiar with different types of guns, but I know that it was the weapon they usually carried and that they used them against the demonstrators.
They were also wearing red scarves which was the indication, I was told, that they were ready to “act.”
Daw Suu said “minglabar”-which is “hello” in Burmese-and welcomed us.
Then, the truck engine started, and got louder as she spoke of the military regime and the political situation. The truck moved and parked again, for no apparent reasons.
We looked at the truck and soldiers as we tried hard to listen to Daw Suu’s talk. She tried to talk louder.
After a while, she looked toward the truck, and this is what I remember she said: “Looks like the military is in agreement with us, turning up the engine loudly as a way of applauding what I am saying, so I guess the louder, the better.”
We laughed.
In the speech that followed, she openly criticized the country’s then two decades-old authoritarian political system that had left Burma in poverty and turmoil, and said how important it was to give people a voice in the political system by which the country is governed.
It was a feel-good moment because many of us were not happy with the system.
For me, it was also a light-bulb moment. Having spent all my life under the so-called Burmese way to socialism, I knew and had witnessed everything wrong with the political system, but I dared not speak up, nor was I sure of the alternative for that system that would allow everyone in the country to equally prosper.
At some point during the speech, I felt a switch in my head as if my mind was liberated-it is okay to speak up, stand up for justice, and to do the right thing for and care about the people.
I could feel the excitement and joy as I walked back home. Most importantly, I discovered my confidence-yes, I, too, can act.
That was the start of my life as an activist, which is a label I cherish.
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Sandi Aung, a native of Burma, is an educator. She lives in Conway with her husband, Adam Frank and their daughter, Zabei Frank.
Editorial, Pages 13 on 11/12/2012