Overcoming Pride and Prejudice with Love
By Chris Olson DeNio

When babies are first born, their weddings seem unimaginably far into the future. As parents, you look back at your own experiences and expect that your children will have similar journeys; you hope to be able to advise them wisely. But what if your future daughter-in-law’s parents required you to negotiate a “brideprice”? If you’re like my husband (Denny DeNio ’75) and me, you’d be in unfamiliar territory.

Our oldest son, Denny Nick (so-called to differentiate him from his dad), and his future wife, Mailee Lee, met at a gathering of Wells Fargo co-workers. Mailee, a Hmong American, was born in this country of refugee parents from Laos. Her close-knit extended family is headed by older members who treasure traditional Hmong culture. Some are Christian, some still practice shamanism. The younger generation Lees, though raised to revere their elders, avidly embrace American culture and pursue education at American universities. Inevitably, a generational conflict arises that can only be overcome by love and grace.

Denny Nick and Mailee kept their relationship a secret from her family. Hmong norms of boy-girl relationships correspond interestingly to that of earlier Western ethics. Chaperones are necessary for unmarried couples in public; any breach of morality results in an immediate wedding such as Lydia’s in Pride and Prejudice. In fact, when Mailee’s younger brother was discovered in a girl’s room, the two were married within a month, at age sixteen, and went on to finish high school as a married couple. We were uncomfortable with the secrecy for Mailee’s parents’ sake, but to know Mailee was to love her, and we accepted the situation. After two years of dating, Denny Nick proposed to Mailee according to the American storybook, kneeling on the shores of Lake Nokomis with engagement ring in hand. Their destiny was thus sealed, and there was just one tiny problem. Mailee’s parents had never met or heard of their daughter’s fiancé.

Denny and I went with Denny Nick to meet Mailee’s parents and help tell them of the engagement. We went nervously to the door and were introduced by Mailee to her confused and alarmed parents, who spoke very little English. Seated under a huge photo-poster of a Laotian village in an otherwise unremarkable suburban living room, we listened to our introverted son describe his love for Mailee; how he had long wanted to know her family; his respect for their culture’s emphasis on tradition and family; and his willingness to meet the expectation of a brideprice.

Mailee’s parents listened, then called an uncle to come to interpret. They understood some of what was said, but not all. It wouldn’t be appropriate for Mailee to serve as the interpreter. The uncle arrived and Denny Nick had to declare his undying love a second time. Mailee’s parents stated they did not believe in Hmong-white marriages and they asked us what “engaged” means. It was surprisingly difficult to explain. The conclusion of this meeting was that Mailee’s parents agreed to allow Denny Nick to come over to the house. They would observe the couple together, then consult with the extended family.

The very next week we got a phone call from a distraught Denny Nick who informed us that the Lees had set a brideprice of $20,000! Both he and Mailee thought the exorbitant figure (an average brideprice is around $8,000) was intended to get rid of the “white guy” by proving he didn’t love her enough to pay the price. Mailee told her parents that she could get married without their permission and the parents said that they would then put a curse on her. They said that if Denny Nick didn’t have the money, he could take out a loan.

We shared their anger – after all, hadn’t the Lees promised to observe the couple for some time? But, within a week, issued this severe demand? Enough multicultural fun and games! Reverse racism! Greed! We were outraged. Denny asked us to meet with the Lees again, taking the role of parents who could not “allow” their son to spend all his money and more. In the Hmong culture, parents are the respected parties, not the young couple themselves.

This second meeting began with the statement, via interpreter, “The parents want to know why you are here.” We explained that we were shocked at the $20,000 request and that we felt the couple should use their savings for their new start in life. Mailee’s parents responded that Mailee’s marriage to a “white guy” was a huge risk – because “white guys will divorce you and leave you with . . . not good name. Then no Hmong man will marry Mailee. There will be no family to settle their disputes. We see what goes on in the American families.”

In other words, American values had not made a great impression! The $20,000 was warranted by the risk to Mailee’s reputation. With a slightly better understanding, we assured them that Denny Nick had been raised to take marriage seriously and to be a person of integrity. The uncle-translator and the parents then conversed at length, and our frustration reached its peak when the uncle said, “The parents have heard you. They still say twenty thousand.” I started to cry; I couldn’t help it. It seemed a hopeless situation.

Then the uncle repeated, “The parents say $20,000. What do you say?” I stopped my sniffling suddenly and said sarcastically, “So are we bargaining now or what?” The uncle calmly replied, “Yes, now is bargaining.” What?! Losing his temper, my husband helpfully spoke up, “I’ll give you a figure! How about ZERO?,” thereby gravely insulting the Lee family. Before things could go from lousy to horrible, Denny Nick quickly said, “I was expecting to pay about $8,000. You have recently purchased a new car for Mailee as a college graduation gift, and that car will be ours. It cost you $5,000, so I would be willing to pay $13,000.”

After more rapid conversation in Hmong, this figure was agreed to, and the parents announced that the wedding would be held in one month. I gasped and explained that a Catholic wedding takes longer than that to plan. Sacrificing their discomfort with such a long wait, the Lees said, “If that is your religious belief, we will be guided by you in the matter of the wedding date.” Mailee told us later that it is bad form to cry or show anger in these negotiations. We had been grossly rude, but it was over.

To make a long story short, a beautiful wedding was held in our church in Richfield, and a Hmong wedding was also held at the Lee home. Stand-out memories include:

• Mailee’s cousin saying to Denny Nick, “So, Denny, are you having thinking twice?”
• Seeing the photograph of a fighter pilot on the Lees’ wall and discovering it was Mailee’s grandfather, who was killed fighting on the American side in the Vietnam war.
• The Lees’ Hmong-Christian pastor’s impassioned sermon at the Hmong wedding (“we are all one in Christ!”)
• The painful comments we received from some members of our own families who refused to listen or understand.

We were lucky to have supportive friends along the way, especially Washburn classmates Karol Krueger Ness and Cathy LaVine Fuller, who insisted I read the excellent book, The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, by Anne Fadiman. Karol and another friend also gave a bridal shower for Mailee with the women of both families in attendance.

The whole experience has highlighted the indifference, ignorance, and complacency I and many of us have regarding the circumstances of refugees and immigrants. We take for granted that we can go to bed at night expecting to awake in the morning alive and unharmed, while in so many parts of the world, there is no such assurance. I want to share with others the truth of the Hmong people’s past involvement in our Vietnam war, our responsibility for their welfare now, and their fascinating culture and traditions. Above all, the lesson learned is that love – of human beings for each other, of parents for their children, of spouses – can transcend the fears and barriers we create for ourselves.

	About the Author...
			Chris Olson DeNio lives in Richfield with her husband, Denny, and the youngest two of their five children. She is the administrative assistant to the principal at the Academy of Holy Angels.