New Breath Foundation’s annual grantee convening brought together We Got Us Fund (WGUF)* grantees from across the country to rest, build relationships, and create space for what’s possible when our movements grow together. We spoke with Bunthay Cheam, co-founder of Khmer Anti-deportation Advocacy Group (KhAAG), about his journey into organizing, what the convening meant to him, and why cross-community solidarity is essential to building collective power.
Can you share a bit about your journey into organizing and what led you to KhAAG?
I come from the community that I build with and advocate for. While I haven’t personally experienced deportation, I’ve witnessed how the criminal legal system and immigration system have harmed my family, friends, and community. As a child of refugees born in a refugee camp, displacement has always been part of my family’s story.
More formally, my journey started in journalism. Writing was a powerful tool for advocating for my community and sharing stories that weren’t being told. Through that work, I met organizers and community members who were doing amazing work.
In 2017, as immigration raids intensified during the first Trump administration, there was a need in the Khmer community for support around deportation defense. I co-founded KhAAG around that time to build towards dismantling the systems that harm our communities, regardless of who’s in office.
We’re a very grassroots organization. We have one full-time staff member, while most of us – including myself – are volunteers or receive small stipends while also working full-time jobs. We’re learning what it means to build capacity while meeting our community’s needs.
As an organizer rooted in Southeast Asian movement building and anti-deportation work, what did participating in New Breath Foundation’s WGUF grantee convening mean to you?
It was a very special convening because it was truly a retreat. Most conferences or convenings I attend involve a form of work – brainstorming, surveys, and strategy sessions. New Breath Foundation created space for actual rest, making space and time to simply be.
It was incredibly healing, especially during this heavy time. We could walk along the beach, hike, receive acupuncture, and participate in different healing practices. Being in that environment gave me permission to stop thinking about emails for a moment. That kind of care is rare, and it reminded me that rest is part of sustaining movement work.
Beyond rest, what stood out most about gathering with organizers from across the country?
The convening created opportunities for cross-pollination. I could hear what other organizations were working on and asked questions like, “How did you do that?” or “Could we build something together nationally?”
One of my favorite connections was with Claire from VietLead in Philly. We discovered a shared interest in storytelling and archival work. We exchanged thoughts about how we intentionally document our movements so that, decades from now, people will understand the work that was done and who made change possible. Those conversations probably wouldn’t have happened if we had been rushing from workshop to workshop.
I also reconnected with organizers much closer to home. Sometimes it takes traveling across the country to finally have meaningful conversations with people in your own region, because back home, you’re always busy working.
What are some of the biggest takeaways you’ve carried with you since the convening?
The convening reminded me of our accountability to the community. There were real conversations that turned into real plans after we got home. I left thinking more intentionally about how we build relationships, collaborate more deeply, and create stronger networks of care.
It also made me think more about healing. How do we intentionally fold joy, rest, and mental health into organizing instead of treating them as things that happen after the work is done? I don’t have all the answers, but it’s something I continue thinking about.
Many of the communities represented at the convening are navigating interconnected struggles – from deportation and incarceration to displacement and economic injustice. Why is cross-community solidarity so important?
Our power lies in the people. In the absence of institutional power and generational wealth, what we can and must do with the people is build collective movements across racial, cultural, and class lines.
KhAAG couldn’t do this work without our partners. Locally, we collaborate with organizations like La Resistencia, which organizes around Washington’s detention center, and with interfaith partners who support pardon campaigns. None of us can do this work alone. Our communities are much stronger when we build together.
Is there a call to action you’d like to leave readers with?
Support organizations that invest in grassroots communities. New Breath Foundation’s support allowed organizations like ours to build capacity and continue serving our communities. We need more people, more funders, and more movement leaders who are willing to invest in grassroots organizations across the diaspora. That’s how collective movements grow.
—
Bunthay Cheam is a 1.5-generation Khmer refugee born in the Khao-I-Dang refugee camp. He grew up in Seattle and graduated from the University of Washington. He co-founded the Khmer Anti-deportation Advocacy Group (KhAAG) and is a Program Manager at the Port of Seattle. Bunthay was also part of the inaugural cohort for the IE’s Advocacy Journalism Fellowship Program which led to bylines in Crosscut, KUOW, the South Seattle Emerald and more.
Follow @khaagwa on Instagram for more information on KhAAG.