Tuy Sobil, or K.K., right, a former gang member from Long Beach, Calif., founded the club after being deported in 2004. (Photo: Stuart Isett for The New York Times)
Tach Piseth, 11, practiced spinning on his head at the Tiny Toones break dancing club in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. The club teaches about 150 youngsters. (Photo: Stuart Isett for The New York Times)November 30, 2008
By SETH MYDANS
The New York Times
PHNOM PENH, Cambodia — It may be the only place in Cambodia where the children are nicknamed Homey, Frog, Floater, Fresh, Bugs and Diamond.
And there are not many places like this small courtyard, thumping with the beat of a boom box, where dozens of boys in big T-shirts are spinning on their heads and doing one-hand hops, elbow tracks, flairs, halos, air tracks and windmills. And, of course, krumping.
It is a little slice of Long Beach, Calif., brought here by a former gang member by way of a federal prison, an immigration jail and then expulsion four years ago from his homeland, the United States, to the homeland of his parents, Cambodia.
The former gang member is Tuy Sobil, 30, who goes by the street name K.K. The boys are Cambodian street children he has taken under his wing as he teaches them the art he brought with him, break dancing, as well as his hard lessons in life.
K.K. is not here because he wants to be. He is one of 189 Cambodians who have been banished from the United States in the past six years under a law that mandates deportations for noncitizens who commit felonies. Hundreds more are on a waiting list for deportation. Like most of the others, K.K. is a noncitizen only by a technicality. He was not an illegal immigrant. He was a refugee from Cambodia’s Khmer Rouge “killing fields” who found a haven in the United States in 1980.
He was an infant when he arrived. In fact, he was born in a refugee camp in Thailand and had never seen Cambodia before he was deported. But K.K.’s parents were simple farmers who failed to complete the citizenship process when they arrived.
Like some children of poor immigrants, K.K. drifted to the streets, where he became a member of the Crips gang and a champion break dancer. It was only after he was convicted of armed robbery at 18 that he discovered that he was not a citizen.
Like many deportees, he arrived in Cambodia without possessions and without family contacts. He was a drug counselor at first and then founded his break dancing club, Tiny Toones Cambodia, where he now earns a living teaching about 150 youngsters and reaching out to hundreds more.
With the financial support of international aid groups like Bridges Across Borders, based in Graham, Fla., he has expanded his center into a small school that teaches English and Khmer and computers in addition to back flips, head stands and krumping, or crazy dancing.
Some other deportees have found work that uses their fluency in English, particularly in hotels. Some have reunited with families. But many have slipped into unemployment, depression and sometimes drug use.
“Some were doing well initially but now over time have become unemployed or never did get employment, and just got discouraged,” said Dimple Rana, who works with Deported Diaspora, which is based in Revere, Mass., and helps deportees adjust.
“I know of a whole bunch of returnees whose mothers were sending money from their Social Security,” she said. “Now, with the economy in the United States, it is very hard and families are not able to send even $100 or $150.”
K.K. stands out as a success, both in finding a calling and in embracing his fate. He has a fair command of the language, unlike some deportees who arrived with no knowledge of Khmer.
“I think it was meant for me to be here, even though I lost my family,” he said. “And my kid is there, Kayshawn. He is 8.”
K.K. is in touch with his relatives in Long Beach but has not seen them since he was deported.
“Right now, you know, these kids are my family,” he said. “I don’t have a kid here, but I adopted one, a street kid. His mom and dad are on drugs.”
The boys and girls leaping and spinning here are the children of Cambodia’s underclass, like thousands who fill the slums of Phnom Penh — children who spend their evenings, as K.K. put it, “begging and digging through garbage to find food.”
K.K., whose youth was not so different from theirs, said he teaches them to find pride in who they are. A wall of his center is marked with students’ graffiti: “I want to be a rapper,” “I want to be a D.J.,” “I want to be a doctor.”
“I try to tell them not to judge people by the way they look,” he said. “I still have a struggle here in Cambodia. People judge me. People see me with tattoos and think I’m a bad guy.
“Sometimes it’s, ‘Come on, we’re going to kill some Americans,’ ” he said, describing threats from street toughs. “I’m not American. I’m Khmer, man.”
His journey between identities reached a point of strangeness when he was invited last December to perform with some of his students at a Christmas party at the United States Embassy.
“The American ambassador gave me a handshake and a hug, and asked me one day when his kid is a little older he wanted to put him in my school,” K.K. said.
The ambassador at the time, Joseph A. Mussomeli, recalled the performance as “great fun,” but he said the piquancy of the moment had not been lost on him.
“You are right that there is a certain wonderful irony to him being ‘rejected’ or at least ‘ejected’ from the U.S. and still landing on his feet — or shoulders and head — dancing,” Mr. Mussomeli said in an e-mail message.
“While watching him I was reminded of that great patriotic speech by Bill Murray in ‘Stripes,’ ” he added, “where he talks about Americans as being rejects from all the good, decent countries of the world! K.K. is/was an American in everything except in law — and he has shown this by his creativity, tenacity, and undying optimism.”
Now another irony is in store for K.K. His club has been invited to send dancers to perform in the United States — Cambodian boys who speak no English and have never left their country.
The real American among them, K.K., deported and excluded from the United States for the rest of his life, must stay behind.
“I can’t go,” he said over the thump of the boom box, as his boys jumped and bounced around him like tiny springs. “I can understand that they deported me here. I’d like to go visit — only visit, because I live here now. I have a brand new life.”
And there are not many places like this small courtyard, thumping with the beat of a boom box, where dozens of boys in big T-shirts are spinning on their heads and doing one-hand hops, elbow tracks, flairs, halos, air tracks and windmills. And, of course, krumping.
It is a little slice of Long Beach, Calif., brought here by a former gang member by way of a federal prison, an immigration jail and then expulsion four years ago from his homeland, the United States, to the homeland of his parents, Cambodia.
The former gang member is Tuy Sobil, 30, who goes by the street name K.K. The boys are Cambodian street children he has taken under his wing as he teaches them the art he brought with him, break dancing, as well as his hard lessons in life.
K.K. is not here because he wants to be. He is one of 189 Cambodians who have been banished from the United States in the past six years under a law that mandates deportations for noncitizens who commit felonies. Hundreds more are on a waiting list for deportation. Like most of the others, K.K. is a noncitizen only by a technicality. He was not an illegal immigrant. He was a refugee from Cambodia’s Khmer Rouge “killing fields” who found a haven in the United States in 1980.
He was an infant when he arrived. In fact, he was born in a refugee camp in Thailand and had never seen Cambodia before he was deported. But K.K.’s parents were simple farmers who failed to complete the citizenship process when they arrived.
Like some children of poor immigrants, K.K. drifted to the streets, where he became a member of the Crips gang and a champion break dancer. It was only after he was convicted of armed robbery at 18 that he discovered that he was not a citizen.
Like many deportees, he arrived in Cambodia without possessions and without family contacts. He was a drug counselor at first and then founded his break dancing club, Tiny Toones Cambodia, where he now earns a living teaching about 150 youngsters and reaching out to hundreds more.
With the financial support of international aid groups like Bridges Across Borders, based in Graham, Fla., he has expanded his center into a small school that teaches English and Khmer and computers in addition to back flips, head stands and krumping, or crazy dancing.
Some other deportees have found work that uses their fluency in English, particularly in hotels. Some have reunited with families. But many have slipped into unemployment, depression and sometimes drug use.
“Some were doing well initially but now over time have become unemployed or never did get employment, and just got discouraged,” said Dimple Rana, who works with Deported Diaspora, which is based in Revere, Mass., and helps deportees adjust.
“I know of a whole bunch of returnees whose mothers were sending money from their Social Security,” she said. “Now, with the economy in the United States, it is very hard and families are not able to send even $100 or $150.”
K.K. stands out as a success, both in finding a calling and in embracing his fate. He has a fair command of the language, unlike some deportees who arrived with no knowledge of Khmer.
“I think it was meant for me to be here, even though I lost my family,” he said. “And my kid is there, Kayshawn. He is 8.”
K.K. is in touch with his relatives in Long Beach but has not seen them since he was deported.
“Right now, you know, these kids are my family,” he said. “I don’t have a kid here, but I adopted one, a street kid. His mom and dad are on drugs.”
The boys and girls leaping and spinning here are the children of Cambodia’s underclass, like thousands who fill the slums of Phnom Penh — children who spend their evenings, as K.K. put it, “begging and digging through garbage to find food.”
K.K., whose youth was not so different from theirs, said he teaches them to find pride in who they are. A wall of his center is marked with students’ graffiti: “I want to be a rapper,” “I want to be a D.J.,” “I want to be a doctor.”
“I try to tell them not to judge people by the way they look,” he said. “I still have a struggle here in Cambodia. People judge me. People see me with tattoos and think I’m a bad guy.
“Sometimes it’s, ‘Come on, we’re going to kill some Americans,’ ” he said, describing threats from street toughs. “I’m not American. I’m Khmer, man.”
His journey between identities reached a point of strangeness when he was invited last December to perform with some of his students at a Christmas party at the United States Embassy.
“The American ambassador gave me a handshake and a hug, and asked me one day when his kid is a little older he wanted to put him in my school,” K.K. said.
The ambassador at the time, Joseph A. Mussomeli, recalled the performance as “great fun,” but he said the piquancy of the moment had not been lost on him.
“You are right that there is a certain wonderful irony to him being ‘rejected’ or at least ‘ejected’ from the U.S. and still landing on his feet — or shoulders and head — dancing,” Mr. Mussomeli said in an e-mail message.
“While watching him I was reminded of that great patriotic speech by Bill Murray in ‘Stripes,’ ” he added, “where he talks about Americans as being rejects from all the good, decent countries of the world! K.K. is/was an American in everything except in law — and he has shown this by his creativity, tenacity, and undying optimism.”
Now another irony is in store for K.K. His club has been invited to send dancers to perform in the United States — Cambodian boys who speak no English and have never left their country.
The real American among them, K.K., deported and excluded from the United States for the rest of his life, must stay behind.
“I can’t go,” he said over the thump of the boom box, as his boys jumped and bounced around him like tiny springs. “I can understand that they deported me here. I’d like to go visit — only visit, because I live here now. I have a brand new life.”
22 comments:
Send them back! Bad influence on cambodian kids.
America, take care of your misfits and criminals. Cambodia definitely does not need them here.
What an unhumanised country!
Cambodia is not a human garbage dump. Throw your trash elsewhere yanks!
Stick to Iraq!
That's right. What we needed is professors and teachers, not bumps and gangs.
NOT PROUD...send him to Afghanistan!
i am proud - local cambodians do not understand the circumstances here in america - i am proud of kk!!! i guess cambodians are more proud of bribing and stealing land than someone who has hardships
btw - no professor or teacher will want to go cambodia, you have enough foreign aid - daym beggers
9:40
You are so goddamn lucky cambodia accepts you gang members. Cambodian society embraces you without prejudice and gives you the chance to find meaning in life..Whereas the US not only refused you citizenship but shipped you off to a foreign land like dirty rags.
So if you want to curse, curse the US and not cambodia.
We want to change leader, but not cultures
KK should be commended for turning his life around and reaching out to kids to be proud of who they are. I know most native born Khmers are not proud to be Khmer. They say that they are, but if you give them the opportunity to immigrate to the U.S., they'd feel like winning the lottery. This is true for not just the poor people...that's understandable. There are many rich Khmer folks who want to go to the U.S. at all costs. Then they talk about how much they love Cambodia. Actions speak louder than words, and KK's actions are speak for themselves.
Hey,...I hope everyone should understand that everybody want to have a better life,...I believe no one want to get in to trouble,...but, life is not always fair,...some were born in a better family that are able to provide better education to children,..at least have sufficient support for the basic living,...but some were really get into a bad situation,...just lik K.K case and many other street kids or the children who are living at the dump site at Steung Meanchey--do they want to have such a dump life???...NO, NO ONE WANT IT,...and no one is perfect,...no one can assure that they do the right thing all the time for their lifetime,...everyone has done some mistakes (small or big,...serious or mild),...BUT, the most important is we should accept and praise for those who admit their mistakes and commit to change for the better,...imagine, how do you feel if K.K would be one of your family members (your brother or father),...I think the way you see him would be different,...
10.32 You are right. America is not the heaven that most Khmer people imagine. There are places in America with lots of poverty and gang activity that many Khmer immigrant end up in. It's not too different from Stung Meanchey as far as bad influences are concerned. The fact that KK has turned his life around and reaching out to underprivileged Khmer kids from the slums is very commendable of him. Most Khmer people, including our leaders, have not accomplished as much as KK has to rebuild Cambodia. So, I don't understand why many people are putting him down for doing the right thing.
The only way to stop abuse from the US is to stop Ah Scam Rainxy.
KK is a gang professor for Cambodian kids. Cambodia is short of gang professors. More to come !!!
I am not personally against KK. He is the exception to the hundreds who get deported. These kids are the by product of the khmer rouge who destroyed the lives of their parents. Forced to flee to the US and to "survive'" a second time in a foreign land, not speaking english and forced to work hard in a ghetto environment, these kids were left to fend for themselves.
The US started the war in vietnam, and expanded the war in cambodia . They gave birth to the KR by supporting the corrupt regimes in SE Asia. They brought untold misery to the population and now a generation later are doing the same to the children of the displaced.
So to those that dream of the US, the american dream I say the grass always look greener on the other side.
I was criticising american immigration system not those unlucky gang members.
10:48,
I think you head is really crew up body. I have seen you popped up everywhere in KI MEDIA blog and you have so much hatred toward that individual(Sam Rainsy). My advice that you need to go to see your Chkout doctor before you seriously hurt other Khmer fellows. Good luck body.
KK, regarding the performance in the US, you shouldn't send your students to perform unless the US allows you to come along. The issue here is respect. You can't appreciate the art but not the artist who created it. This kind of hypocracy is unacceptable.
I think the former US Ambassador is full of shit when he told KK that he wanted KK to teach his kid to break dance. He wouldn't want his kid near KK because if he even cared about KK just a little he could use his power to grant KK just to visit his family in America.
Typical Americans are hypocrites and that's perfect example. They want the world to believe they're good so that can continue to do the bad things.
WELL, in 10 years we will see plenty of gangs in Cambodia.Only khmer with heavy hands can treat those kids.America has too much tolerances for these bad boys.Enjoy your newly found heaven KK.
Such a really double-standard! That explains why there are worldwide increasing acts against the US!
I want to see the US destroyed, just like what they did on Cambodia in the 1970s (the US must be liable for the massacres during Lon Nol, Pol Pot, "Kor Pram" regimes and other subsequent lost of Cambodian lives). I want to see Cambodia prospers and Cambodians living abroad coming back to our homeland.
Long live Cambodia and Khmers!
Raja
you so full of bullshit!!! aint no khmer person wants to be back in cambodia - lawless as country full of corruption and demeaning ways
Raja, I agree. Thanks for your insightful comment.
As for 1:38PM, you're no Khmer...you have no right to comment about Khmer matters. If you were born in Cambodia, you're no longer Khmer because Khmer people love srok Khmer. Stay the hell out of srok Khmer, and stop putting down our country.
3:54PM, thanks for your support. I believe most Khmers love each other and want to live harmoniously together. I just always feel optimistic of my motherland, but at the same time I also do not expect all to agree with me.
1:38PM, you are among those minority always-disagree people. Okay, since you are so happy to live abroad, please continue living as a parasite in a foreign country. Bear in mind that, if you have Khmer blood, I beg you not to tell others that you are Khmer as it would be an extreme shame.
I'm not wanting to boast; don't get me wrong. I'm among those who have had many chances to migrate, but I never did so...
That's enough, except you want more 1:38PM.
Raja
6:58
You dumb ass moron....
He's making a difference in those homeless kids' life.
The only garbage dump is you!
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