Courtesy of Penguin Random House
Minnesota author V.T. Bidania is part of a new generation of children’s book authors who are making sure all young readers see themselves represented on the page. Bidania’s popular “Astrid and Apollo” chapter book series was the first to feature Hmong American main characters.
Photo by Lisa Buck Photography
Now, Bidania is back with a new middle-grade novel. “A Year Without Home,” published in January by Penguin Random House, is written totally in verse. It tells the story of 11-year-old Gao Sheng, who lives in the “lush, humid jungles and highlands of Laos,” where she enjoys playing with her siblings, going to school, and picking ripe peaches. But when American allies, like Gao’s father, are thrust into danger in the aftermath of the Vietnam War, Gao and her family make their way to a refugee camp in Thailand—and then to America.
The story, although fiction, is deeply inspired by Bidania’s own family and their migration to Minnesota. She spent her childhood listening to family stories about refugee camps—and to magical Hmong folk tales. We spoke with Bidania ahead of May 15, which this year marks the 51st anniversary of Hmong refugees leaving Laos and coming to the U.S.
How long have you and your family lived in Minnesota?
My family came to the U.S. as refugees after the war in Laos, and we settled in Minnesota in 1979, so Minnesota has been our home for most of my life. I grew up here, went to school here, and, after living in the East Coast for a while, I recently returned. I’ve built my life here, but I also carry the stories of another place that existed before I was born. So in some ways, I feel as if I have a Minnesota upbringing, but also a history that stretches across oceans and generations.
What does being Minnesotan mean to you in the greater context of your family’s migration?
For me, being Minnesotan is deeply connected to resilience and rebuilding. My parents arrived here having lost so much—home, country, stability—and yet they created a new life for us. Minnesota is where that rebuilding happened. It’s where our traditions continued even as we adapted to something new. When I think about being Minnesotan, I see it as a place where our story continued.
What’s on your mind as May 15, Hmong American Day, arrives?
May 15 is a day of reflection. I think about the sacrifices that were made—the lives lost, the families separated, and the courage it took to start over. I also think about how much has been carried forward: language, culture, stories. It’s a day of remembrance and a day of honoring survival. And I find myself wondering how we can keep those stories alive for the next generation in ways that feel meaningful and real. After my father passed away, this day feels especially sad for me because I think of him and all he did to keep us safe. It’s because of him that we’re still here today.
From your perspective, how has the landscape for immigrants changed in the years since the first Hmong refugees came to the U.S.?
There’s been progress in terms of visibility and representation—more stories are being told and more voices are being heard. But at the same time, many of the challenges are still there. Questions about belonging, identity, and acceptance haven’t disappeared. I think what has changed is that younger generations have more opportunities to tell their own stories and to shape how their communities are seen, which is powerful. But that also comes with the responsibility of remembering where those stories began.
What can we continue to learn from their journeys?
There’s so much to learn from the journeys of refugees—not just about hardship, but about strength, adaptability, and hope. These are stories of people who had to leave everything behind and still found ways to rebuild their lives. I think one of the biggest lessons is empathy: understanding that behind every migration story is a human story. And also, resilience—how people continue forward even when the path is uncertain.
What do you hope young readers take away from “A Year Without Home?”
I hope young readers come away with a sense of connection—whether they see themselves in the story or are learning about an experience different from their own. I want them to understand that history isn’t just something that happened long ago; it lives on in families and in everyday life. And I hope they feel the emotional truth of it—that even in the midst of loss and displacement, there is love, and there is hope, and there is the possibility of finding home again in new ways.
“A Year Without Home” has received starred reviews from Booklist, Publishers Weekly, and the School Library Journal, and is available wherever books are sold. Learn more at vtbidania.com.
