When we tell our stories, these narratives are inextricably linked to place.
These places are often dear to us, connecting us to the land, the people, the ecosystems. In this special issue of The Upper New Review, the place we journey to is Myanmar, a beautiful country that borders Thailand, India, and China. Over the centuries it has been called by different names: Myanmar, Burma, the land of golden pagodas. It is home to over one hundred languages from different linguistic families, a multicultural society of 135 officially recognized ethnic groups and many more that remain unrecognized by the Myanmar government.
While stories tell of places connected to the storyteller, these stories are also often interwoven with struggle. Myanmar is no exception to this struggle as a country that has been embroiled in civil war since its independence from Great Britain in 1948. Many readers may be familiar with the former leader of the civilian democratic government, Daw Aung San Suu Kyi. Her party, the National League of Democracy (NLD), brought five years of both comparative stability and increased socio-economic opportunities for the nation as a whole, while also neglecting the voices of many minority groups. In 2021, after the NLD won the election by a landslide, the military staged a coup. Peaceful demonstrations, led by the country’s youth, sprang up in response, but the peace was short-lived. Military crackdowns were swift, imprisoning and killing many youth.
The Spring Revolution, as it’s known, has continued for four years. The UN estimated in 2024 that over 3 million people have been displaced by the conflict, and over 5000 civilians have been killed. And this revolution has heavily impacted youth in Myanmar, with UNDP’s recent study showing that 40% would leave the country if given the chance. Many university-aged students dropped out of government-funded institutions during the Spring Revolution in protest of the coup, charting alternative paths for their education. Amidst other international developments, like the closing of USAID and promised scholarships to Myanmar students, the barriers faced by Myanmar youth have been daunting.
Yet struggle often accentuates resistance and resilience. These narratives in this special edition of The Upper New Review are a testament to the continued courage of Myanmar youth in these years of conflict. In my experience of teaching these young people for nearly a decade, their resolve and vision for a better future for their country has taught me more than I can express. Since 2021, I’ve been grateful to work at Parami University, a space providing liberal arts education to many students who have been displaced by the political situation in Myanmar. It is an honor to work with students so dedicated to probing the deeper questions of life.
And at the same time, it is important that we do not diminish the sacrifices that these youth have made and are facing today. These griefs parallel their hopes for their homeland; one gives depth to the other. This backdrop of grief and hope can help the reader to better understand the complexity of these narratives. My Burmese teacher, who experienced and took part in Myanmar’s past revolutions, once said to me, “You can learn many things about this country, but it is complicated to understand if you’re not from here.” While I am an outsider to Myanmar, I’ve been honored to live and work amongst many people who call it home. I will let those who know it from the inside tell you their stories. And so in a time when Myanmar is not often in the major international headlines, these stories are a reminder of this beautiful place that many people call home. May these stories of home and the shared desire for peace connect and ground us all in hope.
