
Many students are not yet proficient in Vietnamese, so Ms. Ra goes to each desk to tutor them - Photo: THU BUI
That effort was recently recognized when she became one of the educators honored at the "Sharing with Teachers 2025" program, which aims to express gratitude to teachers in 248 border communes and special zones, as well as teachers wearing military uniforms.
Happiness every day
Having taught for nearly 13 years, Ms. Lam Thi Ra humbly considers herself just "an ordinary person, teaching in an ordinary way." However, her story is a journey of perseverance, compassion, and a simple dream: "My daily happiness is seeing my students learn one more letter."
One morning at the border school, Ms. Ra's classroom echoed with the sound of students reciting aloud: "Five minus one equals four." In the small room, sun-tanned heads leaned close to the blackboard. The school has nearly 100 students, 99% of whom are Khmer. The biggest barrier here is language.
"For the entire first month of school, when we asked the children to get their whiteboards, they sat still; when we asked them to get their books, they also sat still because they didn't understand Vietnamese," Ms. Ra recounted.
Ms. Ra was assigned primarily to teach grades 1 and 2 because these are the grades that need the most exposure to the Vietnamese language.
She confided, "Initially, the Kinh teachers couldn't communicate with the children, so I kept running back and forth between the two classes to translate. Then I used sign language so the children would know what to do." Now, the children can read, write, and answer her in Vietnamese.

The students' dark eyes intently listen to the lesson at Tan Dong Primary School, Tam Pho hamlet branch.
According to Mr. Le Van Bao, the principal of Tan Dong Primary School, Ms. Ra is the only teacher at the school who teaches Khmer and plays a very special role.
"For first graders, most don't know Vietnamese and have to learn both languages. Ms. Ra not only teaches knowledge but also acts as a bridge between the Kinh teachers and parents, helping the children integrate into the classroom and not miss out on learning opportunities," commented Mr. Bao.
Whenever a student stands up to speak, sometimes forgetting Vietnamese, they switch to speaking Khmer. The teacher repeats the correct sentence until they pronounce it clearly. These small cycles repeat dozens of times each lesson; that's how she teaches literacy in this border region.
Ms. Ra recounted: "There was a new teacher who cried constantly after only a week because the students didn't understand the lessons. They remained silent no matter what I asked them. But they weren't lazy or incompetent; they were just shy."
She patiently taught each letter in both languages, holding each child's hand, guiding them through each stroke, repeating the process over and over. "Every time I hear them utter their first Vietnamese word, it makes me so happy," she smiled.
She always encourages and motivates her students to be more confident. Sah Kim Seng, a fourth-grade student, excitedly shared: "I like Ms. Ra's Khmer class the most. Because she teaches in a fun way, and every time I answer correctly, she makes the whole class applaud."
The school building is now much more spacious and well-equipped thanks to the efforts of the teachers, support from the local community, and generous donors. Classrooms now have televisions, and the facilities have improved significantly.
"Back then, students wouldn't go to school unless they had a phone to contact each other, so I had to drive from house to house to find them. Some kids would skip school to play, and I had to drive around the whole neighborhood to find them," she said, laughing.

Most students at this school walk or cycle to school - Photo: THU BUI
A place where parents place their trust.
Most of Ms. Ra's students are children of poor farmers, working as laborers, harvesting cassava, or cutting sugarcane. Many parents are illiterate, so they completely entrust their children's education to the teacher.
"The school works closely with the hamlet and village elders to keep track of the list of children of school age. Two months in advance, we go to each house to encourage them to register their children for school. Many families don't know much about it and just leave everything to the school and teachers," Mr. Bao said.
According to Mr. Bao, this is one of the most challenging schools in the border commune. "Ms. Ra teaches very enthusiastically, takes care of and closely monitors each student, understands their circumstances and psychology, and supports them in both their studies and daily lives."
Once, a student fell seriously ill. Her mother was poor and couldn't afford to take her to the hospital. The teachers at the school had to go to her house to persuade her to take her to a hospital in Ho Chi Minh City and then pay for the trip. "Now she's healthy and in third grade. Looking back, I still feel lucky," Ms. Ra recounted.
She often asks her students, "What is your dream job?" Previously, most students answered that they wanted to work in the fields or harvest cassava because these were jobs closest to them and their families. Some shared that they wanted to be factory workers because they saw their older siblings sending money home. However, now, thanks to literacy, they are boldly expressing their dreams of becoming "police officers" or "doctors."
What makes her happy is that parents have become much more aware of their children's education in recent years. Those who can afford it buy all the necessary books and pay for health insurance. Students from disadvantaged backgrounds are lent books and uniforms by the school. In the past, many children went to school without shoes, but now that is less common. The local authorities also provide more support and opportunities for children from ethnic minority groups.
"I just hope the children can learn to read and write, get a decent job so their lives will be less difficult than their parents'," she said.
From a childhood of hardship to a dream of teaching literacy.
Ms. Lam Thi Ra was born into a poor Khmer farming family. Her father died early, and her mother raised the children alone. Her childhood was filled with simple meals and worn-out clothes. Her mother passed away in her first year of college, forcing her to become independent and live frugally, but she remained determined to pursue her dream of becoming a teacher.
Ms. Ra worked at the school for a year before going to Cambodia to study for four more years to teach Khmer ethnic minority children in Tam Pho hamlet. Although her home is 10km from the school, she still works diligently every day because she wants to help poor children who do not understand Vietnamese have the opportunity to learn.
Provide translation support for colleagues.
Nearly 20 years ago, when she received her assignment to Tan Dong B Primary School, Ms. Chu Phuong Uyen – a Kinh teacher who didn't speak Khmer – was almost overwhelmed. On her first day in class, more than thirty pairs of bright black eyes stared at her, but not a single child spoke. She asked questions, but they remained silent. She instructed them, but they remained silent. Not because they were misbehaving, but because they didn't understand a single word of Vietnamese.
The most difficult thing for her was teaching first grade. Many children didn't understand words like "wipe" or "blackboard," and it took a whole week just for them to remember one word. She used sign language instead of words, patiently showing them each movement and how to hold the chalk. Parents didn't speak Vietnamese, so she had to ask older students or Ms. Ra to help with translation. There were years when she and the principal went from house to house to encourage children to attend school; some children would cling to their beds and cry, refusing to go to class.
THU BUI - VU HIEN
Source: https://tuoitre.vn/co-giao-13-nam-bam-lop-vung-bien-hanh-phuc-moi-ngay-la-thay-cac-em-hoc-them-duoc-mot-chu-20251209104403691.htm






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