Pom Kavan and the Search for Home

Profile Text: Olivia LeRoux
Audio Highlight: Morgan Krull
Photographs: Morgan Krull

Pom Kavan can tell you firsthand about the horrors of crossing the Mekong River as a young girl. However, if you’re looking for Kavan these days, you’ll find her behind the wheel of a police cruiser on the streets of Storm Lake. Kavan’s love for her adopted hometown shines through her daily work as a Community Service Officer for the Police Department. And she enjoys the region’s natural beauty. “I love it here, I like living in Storm Lake,” she says. “We have [a] beautiful lake, we have beautiful everything.” Kavan has been a Community Service Officer for the department for 27 years out of nearly 40 spent in Iowa. She loves her career and the people that she serves. “We have everybody here, and different ethnic groups, you know…all beautiful people,” Kavan says. “If we all look the same it’ll be not amazing. It’s just gonna be plain, normal.” According to Kavan, many newcomers to the community feel that Storm Lake is their home. “I would say the same thing,” she says. “This is home for me.”

My mom, she said she doesn’t know what’s ahead, what’s in the future, but she said it’s got to be better than where she was.

But Storm Lake has not always been home for Kavan. At the age of 13 she arrived in the United States as a refugee from Laos due to the humanitarian crisis evoked by the violence of the Vietnam War. She and her family fled the country in search of opportunity and a better life. Kavan recalls her mother’s reasoning for leaving behind their lives in Laos for the unknown in America: “My mom, she said she doesn’t know what’s ahead, what’s in the future, but she said it’s got to be better than where she was.” Kavan doesn’t remember being scared of her long journey between multiple refugee camps across multiple countries, before settling in the United States. However, the adults in her family, more aware of the danger facing them, feared for their safety. In order to get to the first refugee camp in Thailand, Kavan’s family of 12 was required to cross the Mekong River. Yet her grandfather didn’t have enough money for all family members to leave. Her own father had to stay behind. And due to a lack of space in the boat, her aunt crossed by clutching its back edge, swimming alongside while the others crossed the river, all to get a few steps closer to the promise of a better life. 

Kavan’s family made it safely to the United States. Not all refugees were so lucky. Kavan heard stories of tragedy that happened to families when crossing the river. She remembers how communist soldiers stood watch at the border, waiting for any sign of movement, and how it took a toll on her family. Extended family members and friends paid for the chance at freedom with their lives. “They didn’t make it across,” she says.

Hear Kavan recount her long journey as a child from Laos to Storm Lake.

After reaching Thailand, Kavan’s family stayed there for nearly a year waiting for a chance to reach the United States. No opportunities for their family of 12 arose, so they were sent to a camp in the Philippines. Unwilling to be separated, they waited 11 grueling months until finally, the family was afforded a sponsorship and began its journey to Spencer, Iowa, in 1981.

I remember when I was in class and there’s all these white friends, students that come closer to me and it’s like, “Oh, whoa!” And they just want to be near you. They just want to talk to you, but I just, like, sitting there and smile and nod.

Iowa presented a major shift in culture and tradition from Laos. The biggest shock, Kavan says, was the snow: “People talk about snow, you hear snow, but you have no concept. You just know snow is white but you have no idea how cold it is!” Frigid Iowa winters weren’t the only adjustments that Kavan and her family experienced. The family’s sponsor helped Kavan’s mother learn how to shop at grocery stores, use the stove, and stock the refrigerator. Kavan entered sixth grade upon her arrival in Iowa and struggled to communicate with her classmates. “I remember when I was in class and there’s all these white friends, students that come closer to me and it’s like, ‘Oh, whoa!!’ And they just want to be near you. They just want to talk to you, but I just, like, sit there and smile and nod. Everything they ask me is a ‘yes’ because I don’t understand what they’re saying. But, it’s like a ‘yes’ and a smile. I remember doing that,” she recalls.

Kavan’s experiences learning the English language inspired her and led her to her career today. Kavan admired the Laotian teacher who taught her English at the Philippine refugee camp. “I remember sitting there and listening to him teaching English class,” she says. “In the back of my mind, I’m like, I really want to do that, I want to teach English. I want to be an interpreter, I want to translate.” After moving to Storm Lake in 1990, Kavan followed this intuition and became a paraprofessional ESL teacher for two years. This job set her up to apply for the Community Service Officer position. Kavan giggles when asked if she ever thinks about leaving her current occupation. “I always said I want a Monday through Friday job, eight to five, you know, nine to five, no weekends, no holidays. But I always say that. But when I really, really think about what it would be like…I won’t get to interact with people. I would be confined in one place.’”

It doesn’t feel like a job. I just love what I do. I love interacting with people and, you know, different people in the community.

Kavan’s role as a Community Service Officer comes naturally to her. According to Kavan, “It doesn’t feel like a job. I just love what I do. I love interacting with people and, you know, different people in the community.” Kavan explains that there is no typical day for a community service officer. Some of her duties include translating, educating about city codes, and handling many non-emergency scenarios such as traffic jams, funeral processions, and cultural sensitivity and understanding trainings. Her spirited personality has helped to form a more trusting relationship between the Police Department and the Asian community in Storm Lake.

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In fact, when asked how she feels she is making a difference through her career, she recalled a time where many members of the Asian community relied heavily on her advice. Community members often would call Kavan at home and ask for her assistance. When she suggested they come in to see her at the police department, they often replied, “Oh, we [are] scared to go in. The name police station scares us already, we don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go in.” Kavan is aware this stems from the trust issues in many individuals’ home countries. However, Kavan was patient. “So then from then on they slowly, you know, slowly, start coming in. They don’t call me at home anymore. I mean, they still do, but not as often as before. But when they walked in the police station the first thing they said [was], ‘Oh my god it feels so scary in here…’ and I go, ‘No, don’t be. It’s okay!’” Kavan understood that it was up to her to help her community feel more comfortable with town authorities, and she is proud of the progress that has been made. 

Kavan’s job leads to new experiences every day. One case that stuck with her was a domestic abuse case in which she bonded with the victim. “You know, with domestic abuse, not too many people would come forward, and she did,” Kavan reflects. “And we had to go to trial and everything. She had to say everything, she had to tell everything. At the end, justice was served. No, I cried…and, you know, I was so proud of her, and so proud of her that she stepped forward.” These connections reinforced Kavan’s notion of the strong sense of community and acceptance that is woven throughout Storm Lake. In town, regardless of one’s origins, some residents are clutching onto hope, needing a hand to cross their own rivers. Kavan is there to help. Anyone can be a refugee of one sort or another.

I’m as comfortable as ever. Like I said, this is home. When you feel that place is home, everything is okay. I feel okay, I feel comfortable with everything.

Although Kavan is dedicated to her career, she has other commitments as well. Family is something that she values greatly. Her two children, Jesse and Sam (named for television series Full House and Who’s the Boss) are her pride and joy. Both of her children have graduated from college and found careers. “I feel proud. They graduated from high school, they went to college, [and] they received college degrees. I feel proud for their education, what they have accomplished,” Kavan says. Kavan knows that their lives would not be nearly the same if she had not been able to seek refuge in the United States. Kavan’s mother wanted to come to the United States for a chance at a better life, and Kavan thoroughly believes that this was accomplished for both her and her children. 

While she loves Storm Lake and considers it home, she retains respect and admiration for her Laotian culture and traditions. Storm Lake is home to a beautiful Buddhist Temple, constructed in 1999, where Kavan goes along with other community members to celebrate special occasions and honor her heritage (Tai Dam). While Kavan values her time at the Temple, she shared that she also holds a Christian faith. “I can believe in Buddha, I believe in God, because we all believe the same thing, the purpose is the same thing: peace, and [the] belief in something that makes you peaceful. When I pray at night I pray in English. I don’t know why but it comes out… easier?” Kavan is grateful for the opportunities to both value her culture and adopt new traditions.

Kavan loves Storm Lake because it allows her to do just that. She is appreciative of the town’s acceptance and willingness to foster her  growth. “I still feel the same about Storm Lake. I’m as comfortable as ever. Like I said, this is home. When you feel that place is home, everything is okay. I feel okay. I feel comfortable with everything.”

Update: Since the writing of this profile, Pom Kavan has decided to retire from the Storm Lake Police Department after 27 years of service. “It just felt right,” she recently said. She will be venturing beyond Storm Lake, her home for three decades, to be nearer to one of her children in the Des Moines area.