Fifty Years Later: Southeast Asians Are Still Not on the Radar—That Must Change Now
Reflections from the 2025 AAPIP Conference and a Call for Philanthropic Justice
This year marks 50 years since the official end of the U.S. war in Southeast Asia. But for many Southeast Asians—Vietnamese, Cambodian, Lao, Hmong, and Indonesians—the war never truly ended.
Its aftermath lives on in our families, in the chronic underfunding of our communities, and in the silences that still surround our histories.
At the 2025 AAPIP (Asian Americans/Pacific Islanders in Philanthropy) conference in Chicago, I was invited to speak alongside organizers, funders, and cultural leaders. Over 450 people gathered to explore how philanthropy could better serve AAPI communities. But once again, Southeast Asians were often left out of the conversation.
The Data is Clear—But Still Ignored
When philanthropy talks about AAPI people, the data is often aggregated in a way that erases our experiences. But disaggregated statistics tell the real story:
Burmese, Cambodian, Hmong, and Laotian Americans have some of the lowest median incomes and education levels of all Asian subgroups.
In 2019, Burmese Americans had a median income of $44,400—about half the national Asian American average.
Only 18% of Laotian Americans hold a bachelor’s degree or higher, compared to 75% of Indian Americans.
In 2020, 71% of nonprofits serving AAPI communities received no new foundation funding at all. That underinvestment is even worse for Southeast Asian-led efforts.
These are not gaps. They are systemic erasures.
Southeast Asians Are Not “Emerging”—We Are Here
Too often, we are labeled as “emerging communities” or lumped into vague ethnic categories that render our needs invisible.
But our people have been organizing, healing, and surviving for generations. We are not new. We are not peripheral. We are here.
And we deserve to be resourced now, not in some future funding cycle.
Solidarity Means Moving Money—Not Just Words
One moment that gave us hope: 18 Million Rising shared how they lost $250,000 in funding after posting in solidarity with Palestine—and still stood firm.
Organizers like Jennifer Ching and Vanessa Daniel called philanthropy to task for its performativity. A Chicago-based panel connected the dots between ICE, prisons, and Palestinian liberation, showing us what true cross-movement solidarity looks like.
This is what Southeast Asians are a part of—not apart from.
What Moving Rasa Brings
At Moving Rasa, we bring a somatic practice rooted in cultural memory, emotional intelligence, and embodied connection.
Our message to philanthropy: You cannot transform what you refuse to feel.
Moving Rasa is not just about wellness—it is about power. It is a way to listen deeply to our bodies and to each other, so we can move in alignment with our values, our ancestors, and our communities. Our bodies hold wisdom. Our cultures hold pathways to healing. But without funding, our work remains under-recognized and under-supported.
A Call to Philanthropy
To Southeast Asian organizers:
Your labor, your leadership, and your love are essential.
To funders:
Stop waiting. Move the money. Support our work, fully and boldly.
To fellow AAPI and BIPOC communities:
Solidarity isn’t just symbolic—it’s survival. Let’s build together.
Fifty years is long enough.
Now is the time to invest in Southeast Asian healing, leadership, and vision.
Justice isn’t incremental. It’s intersectional.
And our funding must be, too.