Racial Equity

How Paul Luu Envisions Building a More Empathetic World

Paul Luu in the Chinese American Service League offices in Chicago, April 2023. Photo credit: Kelly Feldmiller

Paul Luu in the Chinese American Service League offices in Chicago, April 2023. Photo credit: Kelly Feldmiller

Paul Luu has a calm demeanor that puts people at ease when he’s in the room.  

He is soft-spoken and humble with kind black eyes that gently crinkle on the sides when he smiles. He is a well-loved and well-known figure in Chicago’s robust Asian American community, where he has spent over two decades serving as a former CEO of the Vietnamese Association of Illinois and the current CEO of the Chinese American Service League (CASL) – working with people from diverse faiths and backgrounds to help them with immigration support, resources, training, and help preserve traditional culture and heritage.  

But Paul Luu hasn’t always been called by that name. Born to a Chinese mother and Vietnamese father, they named him Họa Quốc Luu at birth, which means ‘flowers’ or ‘for the people’ in Vietnamese. He shares his middle name with his two younger brothers, a name inherited from their great grandfather. 

Names that were erased when 3-year-old Luu arrived in the small village of Savoy in Champagne County, Illinois, in 1980, with his family and nothing to their name. A local Presbyterian church had sponsored them to immigrate from their refugee camp in war-torn Vietnam to start a new life in the U.S.  

“The church who sponsored us had a white Norwegian minister who came to our house and said, ‘I don’t like your name. I can’t pronounce it,’” Luu recalls. “He lined us all up and said, ‘You’re Paul, Sam, and Ben.’  Right then, he converted us to Christianity, and he changed our name without understanding who we are or our identity.”  

Paul Luu in the Chinese American Service League offices in Chicago, April 2023. Photo credit: Kelly Feldmiller

Luu remembers feeling so afraid as a young boy transplanted to a new land where nobody knew his name, spoke his language, or looked like him. He remembers their tiny home surrounded by long stretches of cornfields and no neighbors or bus stops for miles ahead, the long walks to food banks in frigid winters and humid summers and waiting for government assistance funds, or the little money his parents made from picking apples.  

Most of all, Luu remembers grappling with an immense sense of loss of community.  

“I remember just walking and wondering why are we living in this cold place? Why do we have to walk so far? Why do we have to get assistance? says Luu. “Being so isolated and not knowing who I am, or where my people are, was really tough.”  

Luu shares what helped them get through an incredibly tough part of their life were his parents and their commitment to preserve their identity within their home in the absence of a community outside their doors. Every Lunar New Year, his family would decorate their house and fill the table with traditional food in honor of their ancestors, grandparents, and home, and they spoke in their native languages so their sons wouldn’t forget it.  

Luu’s lived experiences played a crucial role in his decision to become a leader that serves the Asian American community.  

“Because of my experience, I want to make sure that at CASL we provide programs and services and support in a very comprehensive, but culturally understanding, respectful way for our families,” says Luu. “When they walk through our doors, we want to reassure them that there is a sense of community, that there is a sense of tradition, there is a sense of identity.”   

Luu believes the search for community and acceptance is a lifelong journey, and religion and religious institutions often play an integral role in helping people find a sense of belonging.  

In his own journey, Luu felt a belonging to the Presbyterian Church as a young man because they sponsored refugees and immigrants like his family and helped them in their times of need. 

“We felt we owe it to the church to be a part of the institution,” says Luu. “I questioned the church a lot growing up, but I also felt like I really belonged there. The people at the church never pushed their faith on us. They supported us and truly deeply cared for us.” 

“When they walk through our doors, we want to reassure them that there is a sense of community, that there is a sense of tradition, there is a sense of identity.”  

Though today Luu doesn’t identify with any religious affiliation, he believes churches and other religious institutions have the same common goal as him; to help the families in their communities. He still feels a keen sense of belonging when he works with diverse faith groups. 

“During the pandemic, seniors in our community were hungry. We had a kitchen [at CASL] to prepare culturally appropriate Asian meals to feed our seniors,” says Luu. “We reached out to local churches to help us spread the word and translate languages in different dialects. The congregations really helped us with that and helped me feel like I belonged to these churches.” 

Another issue at the heart of Luu’s service work is behavioral mental health. Luu’s father served in the Vietnam War and struggled with mental health issues that stemmed from the horrors he had witnessed. After moving to the U.S., he struggled further to adapt to a new culture and a new world, and he attempted to take his life twice.  

According to the American Psychological Association, suicide was the 8th leading cause of death among Asian Americans, and the second leading cause of death among Asian Americans aged 15−34. 

“We don’t talk about mental health in many communities, not just the Asian American community,” says Luu. “But my experiences with my father and other families led us to start a behavioral health clinic at CASL. We care for adults and seniors and have a play therapist for children.” 

Luu says understanding the challenges that are important within the community allows him to derive a larger vision that he hopes is comprehensive and encompassing of everyone’s needs. He considers himself a “servant leader” and wants to serve his community by creating more spaces for people to work together towards common good. He is pursuing that vision through his work at CASL, which offers more than two-dozen programs to serve all aspects of an individual’s life, from early childhood learning to financial literacy to Alzheimer’s support.  

Exploring AAPI Experiences of Religious Identity and Diversity​

Stories published as part of this initiative offer key findings from research and spotlight AAPI changemakers across different religious, civic, and professional sectors.

A role model who inspires Luu to build a better world is Dr. Tam Wei, a Vietnamese mental health educator and specialist who served at the East Central Illinois Refugee Mutual Assistance Center. Luu met Wei in his mid 20s and she mentored him at a time when he defines himself as a “young idealistic gung-ho professional who had many ideas on how to save the world.” 

Luu recalls many evenings spent in the backyard of Wei’s Urbana home drinking tea and talking about all the things he wanted to do to make the world a better place. “She told me… you cannot do this alone, Paul, you need more people to be a part of an army of good. Surround yourself with great people who are better than you.” 

Years later, Wei’s words continued to guide Luu in his vision to create a more just and equitable world. He believes to be a better leader; one must practice empathy, patience, and listening, and one must spend more time with people within the community and take the time to understand their problems. 

“In today’s world there’s a charge to quickly fix the problem,” says Luu. “Whether it’s a personal or social problem, there’s a need to fix it immediately. We forget to stop, pause, and take the time to understand the problem – and how the problem is impacting the lives of people living through the problem.” 

Luu believes everyone should use their influence and platforms to raise their voices for the people in their communities.  

“I want a world where everyone has a voice,” says Luu. “I want a world with more empathy and understanding because that’s what helps us become better human beings.” 

This article is part of Interfaith America’s AAPI qualitative research and storytelling initiative, which explores Asian American and Pacific Islanders’ experiences of religious identity and diversity in the United States. Stories published as part of this initiative offer key findings from the research and spotlight AAPI changemakers across different religious, civic, and professional sectors.