09/20/2026
A Full Circle Story
City Heights-Weingart Library was one of the places where I spent so much time as a child—reading, learning, dreaming, and trying to find my way in a new language and a new culture.
I still remember being that little girl surrounded by books, quietly imagining what my future might look like.
And I remember making a promise to myself:
One day, when I became strong in English while still holding on to my Vietnamese language and culture, I would write bilingual children’s books of my own.
At the time, it was only a dream.
Today, that dream has become real.
My books received a certificate of copyright from the U.S. Library of Congress and now sitting on the shelves of the very library where I once sat as a child, as well as in other libraries where children and families can discover them.
Seeing my name on those shelves is more than an author milestone.
It is a full-circle moment.
It reminds me that sometimes the dreams we quietly whisper to ourselves as children can become the very work we are called to do as adults.
Standing at SDSU’s Bilingual Development in Context event and reading one of my bilingual books aloud brought that feeling back all over again.
It reminded me why I began writing in the first place.
It was not only about publishing a book.
It was not only about seeing my name on a cover.
And while I am deeply grateful for the awards, recognition, and opportunities my books have received, awards are not the end of the story.
They are evidence that culturally rooted children’s literature belongs in the larger conversation.
The real impact is not the trophy.
It is the child who sees a family like their own in the pages of a book and feels:
“I belong here.”
It is the child who hears familiar words from home and realizes that their language matters.
It is the parent who continues speaking the home language.
It is the grandparent who can still share a story and be understood.
It is the teacher who makes room in the classroom for culture, language, and identity.
And it is the family that remains connected across generations.
Language can fade in just a few generations if we do not intentionally create opportunities for children to hear it, speak it, read it, use it, and connect emotionally to it.
That is why I write bilingual children’s books.
But I wanted my books to do more than place Vietnamese words beside English words.
I wanted children to understand what lives behind the language.
The traditions.
The memories.
The family relationships.
The values.
The foods.
The celebrations.
The sacrifices.
The stories passed from grandparents to parents, and from parents to children.
Because language becomes meaningful when it is connected to something we love.
That is the power of storytelling.
Stories give words context.
Stories give traditions meaning.
Stories help children understand where they come from while giving them confidence in who they are becoming.
When I look at all of these moments together—the childhood hours spent inside the library, the books now sitting on those same shelves, the recognition my work has received, the community celebrations, and the opportunity to stand before families and read—I see something much bigger than my own journey as an author.
I see a bridge being built.
A bridge between home and school.
Between grandparents, parents, and children.
Between the culture we inherited and the future our children are creating.
Between where we came from and where the next generation is going.
And behind this journey are two sources of gratitude that I carry very deeply in my heart.
First, my parents.
I am grateful to my parents for giving me my roots and for instilling in me the values that continue to guide my life—hard work, perseverance, gratitude, compassion, humility, respect for family, and the responsibility to give back.
They taught me that success is not only about what we achieve for ourselves.
It is also about what we are able to do for others.
They gave me a language, a culture, and a foundation strong enough to carry with me as I grew up in America.
And I am deeply grateful to the United States of America for giving me the opportunity to learn, to study, to grow, and to pursue dreams that once seemed so far away.
This country gave me access to education, libraries, mentors, experiences, and opportunities that helped me find my voice and build a future.
To me, opportunity becomes even more meaningful when we use it to open doors for someone else.
That is what I hope to do through my books, my teaching, my educational programs, and my work with children and families.
I also want to thank my husband and my children, whose love, encouragement, patience, and support continue to give me the strength to pursue this work.
My heartfelt thanks to the San Diego City Council Community Projects Program & Services awarded to District 6, the SDSU Bilingual Development in Context Lab, the libraries that continue to make culturally meaningful books accessible to families, and every person in the community who has supported, encouraged, and believed in this work.
I am grateful from the deepest part of my heart.
What began with a little girl sitting in a library, learning a new language and quietly dreaming, has become a way for me to give back to the community that helped me learn, grow, and find my voice.
And perhaps that is what makes this journey most meaningful to me:
The child who once came to the library looking for stories is now able to leave stories there for another child to find.
Stories that say:
Your language matters.
Your culture matters.
Your family’s stories matter.
Your dreams matter.
And as long as I am able, I hope to continue building that bridge—helping children read, speak, belong, and carry their language, culture, stories, and dreams forward into the next generation.
With heartfelt appreciation,
Kimly Hoang-Nakata, M.Ed.
Award-Winning Author & Educator
Founder & CEO, Achieve Education &
MindSmart Learning
https://theprimetoday.com/the-most-influential-education-leader-of-2026/
https://executivesdiary.com/2026/04/07/from-the-diary-of-kimly-hoang-nakata/
