April 30, 2025, marked the 50th anniversary of the Fall of Saigon, a defining moment in modern history. On this day in 1975, the capital of South Vietnam fell to NorthVietnamese forces, ending the Vietnam War and triggering a humanitarian crisis that forced more than 1.6 million Vietnamese people to flee their homeland. For those who lived it, and for those shaped by its aftermath, the legacy of that day is enduring.

At International Institute of Los Angeles (IILA), we remember this moment not just as a historical event, but as the beginning of an urgent, complex, and ongoing story—one of displacement, resettlement, and resilience. In the years following the fall of Saigon, IILA was deeply involved in the resettlement of Vietnamese, Cambodian, and Laotian refugees—many of whom arrived with trauma, uncertainty, and nothing more than the clothes they wore. What they carried instead were memories of loss and a steadfast will to begin again.

These communities transformed Los Angeles. They built new lives, opened businesses, contributed to the economy, and raised children who would become leaders in every field. IILA was proud to stand beside them, offering legal support, housing assistance, employment services, and language training—each effort a piece of a larger mosaic of recovery and hope.

Yet as we observe this solemn anniversary, we are compelled to confront a more difficult truth: the lessons of 1975 are in danger of being forgotten. For organizations like IILA, which continue to serve recent arrivals from Afghanistan, Ukraine, Latin America, and beyond, the anniversary of Saigon’s fall is not simply a memorial. It is a warning—and a call to action. When we forget how fragile safety can be, when we allow systems of protection to erode, we risk repeating history not as progress, but as failure.

Documentary filmmaker Thanh Tan, creator of Origins: Refuge After War, recently reflected on the significance of the anniversary in light of the current refugee crisis and the effective end of the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program by the Trump Administration. Tan was a member of Viets for Afghans, a grassroots community effort of Vietnamese refugees and residents of Washington state to help resettle Afghan arrivals after the fall of Kabul in 2021. She and her community were partially responsible for the Biden Administration’s launch of the refugee resettlement community sponsorship program known as Welcome Corps. “Now, as we mark 50 years since the fall of Saigon,” she says, “our already fragile refugee resettlement system is breaking down further…Federal policy updates show just how rapidly the landscape is shifting, eroding what was once a promising model for community-driven resettlement.”

For Tan and other Vietnamese Americans, the message the administration and the nation are sending with the near end of refugee resettlement is deeply personal. “Each policy change that restricts immigration or refugee resettlement feels like a personal rejection—a suggestion that perhaps our families would not be welcome if they arrived today,” she laments. Furthermore, the current successes of Vietnamese Americans—along with those of other refugee communities in the U.S.—are being ignored and devalued. “When the U.S. government announces it will no longer support refugee resettlement—the very program that brought my family and countless others to safety—it’s not just abandoning its historical commitment,”says Tan. “It’s discarding the evidence of that commitment’s success: the contributions Vietnamese Americans have made to this country over five decades.”

The Vietnamese diaspora in Southern California stands as living proof that welcoming refugees is not only a moral duty; it is an investment in the future of this nation. But that future depends on policy that matches principle and infrastructure that meets the scale of global need. According to UNHCR, over 114 million people worldwide are currently displaced due to conflict, persecution, and environmental catastrophe. The need for durable resettlement pathways has never been greater.

As we remember April 30, 1975, we honor those who fled, those who fought to survive, and those who helped rebuild lives in a new land. We also renew our commitment to those still searching for safety, and to the belief that the United States can—and must—remain a refuge for those in danger.

Because the world still burns. Because people are still seeking safety. And because, fifty years on, the promise of refuge must not become a memory—it must remain a right.