Swathed in a backwards baseball cap, sneakers, and track jacket, Wat Lee, 19, is a far cry from when he was the nine-year-old boy who ran barefoot through the streets of Wat Thamkrabok, Thailand. Instead of kicking around a soccer ball in the hot and dusty Thai air, Lee loves watching TV, especially “Game of Thrones,” and playing video games. These days he swaps English language lessons for college-level engineering homework. For Lee, being Hmong American means living between two worlds.

Lee was born in the city of Wat Thamkrabok, Thailand in 1995. His father was a merchant while his mother worked as a seamstress. Huay Nam Khao, a city centered on its renowned Buddhist temple, was known for taking in thousands of Hmong refugees after the conclusion of the Vietnam War. In the 1990s, the Thai government became wary of Hmong involvement in nearby Bangkok’s drug trafficking problem. Clashes between the two groups became common and in 2005, a United Nations mandate granted the Hmong asylum in the United States. The camp was quickly surrounded by fencing and Lee’s family was told they were to make a decision: to go to the United States or face possible persecution in their adopted Thai home. The Lee family said yes, and were quickly routed to Appleton, WI.

“I remember coming here and thinking, wow… there are so many white people everywhere,” Lee says. “At that age I was surprised that there were no Asian people anywhere and that there was no dirt and dust flying around.”

Originally a hill tribe in southern China who migrated across Southeast Asia, the Hmong were recruited by the CIA to fight alongside US forces during the Vietnam War. After the war, they became known as America’s “forgotten allies”. When the communist Pathet Lao took power in Laos in 1975, thousands of Hmong fled, while others stayed behind, waging a low-level insurgency. Thousands of Hmong have since resettled in the United States. According to the US Census Bureau there are a little over 260,000 Hmong residing in the United States. The vast majority are under the age of ten.

“When I first came to America I got into the Newcomers Program, which helped Hmong kids learn English and learn typical American things,” says Lee. “I remember learning about American football. Back in Thailand we only used to play soccer.”

Lee arrived in Appleton with his family knowing enough English to get by; he had learned it at the refugee camp. And he had a firm grasp on some American customs – unlike other Hmong refugees, who came to the U.S. knowing almost no English and unfamiliar with how to work a stove, shower, refrigerator or car. Lee was most surprised by Appleton’s buildings and roads.

Around other Hmong students in his elementary school’s English as a Second Language class, Lee spoke English well. But placed in a middle school classroom of typical American students, he felt isolated. Once an eager and happy ESL student, he turned into a quiet and reserved student in his regular classroom.

As he got older he became more comfortable.

“From elementary school to middle school I felt like I was only going to be friends with other Hmong kids,” he said. “I thought only Hmong students will understand me. In high school I started becoming friends with white people because of choir class. We all had the same love of music.”

Lee’s story is different from most Hmong college students today because he was born in Thailand, says Dao Vang, a Hmong refugee and senior coordinator of UWM’s Southeast Asian-American Student Services office at UWM. Today many Hmong students were born and raised in the United States. Often their parents have trouble understanding their American-raised children.

“I see a lot of Hmong parents come into my office who see education as very important, but they do not necessarily understand how to provide their children with the emotional support that they need,” says Vang.

Chia Vang (no relation),  associate professor of history at UWM, says the Hmong students of today are much different from those of the past.

“Hmong students today have fewer have personal ties to the place in which they were born or the homeland of their parents,” she says. “Language barriers are not as prevalent as in the past. Young women are pursuing higher education at a higher rate and parents are generally more supportive of their children attending college away from home.”

Vang’s observation suggests the story of Hmong immigrants like Wat Lee, is a classic American immigration story. And Lee, as part of one of the last waves of Hmong immigrants to settle in the United States, will always be a part of multiple worlds: part Thai immigrant, part Hmong, and part American.

“It’s like everybody is becoming more American,” Lee says. “I’m not sure if that is a good or a bad thing.”