
Vi, once a homeless shoe shiner, now co-CEO of Blue Dragon, rescues street children. He hopes one day the organization will no longer be needed.
Michael Brosowski handed him a ChocoPie and invited him to free English classes. Vi was 15, homeless, shining shoes on the streets of Hanoi. He looked eight because of malnutrition. He slept in alleys and memorized every escape route to avoid being robbed or beaten by other groups.
Vi did not trust the foreigner. Street children learn to trust no one. Michael kept showing up. He told Vi he was smart and that a proper education would change his life. No one had ever said that to Vi. He started believing it.
He learned computer skills and web design, then found work in restaurants and five-star hotels. He saved money, earned employee of the year. After about five years, he returned to Blue Dragon Children's Foundation, the organization Michael had founded, to repay what he had been given. He planned to stay for six months.
Seventeen years later he is still there.
What kept him was a boy from an ethnic minority, about eight or nine years old, who had been sexually abused several times and was in poor health. Doctors suspected HIV. When Vi told him the positive results, the boy asked: "Why didn't you find me sooner?"
Vi had no answer. He decided then he would stay.
"I kept thinking about the other children asking for help," Vi said in an interview with VnExpress. "They reminded me of myself when I was desperate and wished someone like Michael would appear."
Vi now co-leads the organization. His job takes him under bridges and to bus stations, where he deals with gangs, extortionists, and traffickers. He has been threatened with weapons. He once walked alone into an abandoned construction site where men who pay to sexually exploit boys were hiding. He found himself in a hideout with teenagers who survived by stealing. Knives leaned against the wall. He recognized one of them from an earlier meeting. He bought everyone food and talked for hours. When he got back to the office, he collapsed.
His starting salary at Blue Dragon was lower than the tips he received in a single month at the hotel. Money stopped being the most important thing.
The hardest part was not the danger. It was realizing that kindness, shelter, money, and education are not enough to change a child's life.
He met an 11-year-old who had been adopted by eight or 10 families, each eventually giving him up. Vi brought him into Blue Dragon, cared for him like family, found him clothes, meals, relatives, legal documents, and a school. It took two years to pull him off the streets. Then one day the boy skipped school and went back to selling chewing gum for someone who exploited children. He said he felt loved there. Vi begged him to return to school. The boy shook his head.
Vi bought him a train ticket to live with his biological mother. At the station, he could not watch the train leave. Later, at a café with friends, he broke down crying in front of strangers for the first time.
"I thought I had failed," Vi said. "It made me realize how difficult it is to change someone's life."
He learned that his expectations were wrong. He had tried to solve every problem. The more he tried, the more complicated everything became. He had expected children to change quickly because he had invested so much. People do not work that way.
Now, instead of saying "I will help you become this kind of person," he asks: "What do you want from your life? How can I help you?"
The second lesson was compassion. When you help someone and see no results, your instinct is to blame or judge. Vi realized that social work is not about changing someone as fast as possible. It is about having enough patience never to give up on them.
That belief nearly cost him his job. While he was overseas, a boy he had brought to the center sent him a message: "Brother, I'm hungry." The boy had dropped out of school and refused to return to his family. Blue Dragon had stopped supporting him because he broke the rules too many times. He was back on the streets. Vi asked a colleague to bring him a meal.
When he returned to Vietnam, his colleagues told him the organization had decided to end all assistance. No staff member was allowed to help the boy because he had violated the rules repeatedly.
Vi submitted his resignation.
"Blue Dragon exists for children like him," he said. "If the organization would not help them, I saw no reason to stay."
The founder stepped in and required Blue Dragon to rethink its approach.
Now, when a social worker cannot work effectively with a child, the organization changes the worker or the support strategy. It does not give up on the child. Training now includes time on the streets, meeting children and witnessing conflicts firsthand. Conversations changed from asking about problems to asking: "What are you good at? What are you most proud of?"
One girl came to Blue Dragon simply to learn hip-hop dance. She was shy at first. Gradually she became more confident, returned to school, learned English, studied overseas, and joined an international company. A dance class became the starting point for much bigger changes.
Vi has struggled with depression. There was a period when he asked himself if disappearing would make the pain disappear. He told someone he trusted: "I need help."
He still has nightmares. Some memories keep him awake. He visits the children at the center. Many have no parents. Simply having someone spend time with them means a great deal. When he first arrived in Hanoi, loneliness was the hardest part. He was surrounded by millions of people, yet completely alone. Being with these children reminds him why he started.
He is now co-CEO, appointed in 2022. Blue Dragon has worked in Hanoi for 21 years, and the number of street children there has fallen significantly. Every time he visits Ho Chi Minh City, he sees children selling lottery tickets, shining shoes, breathing fire for money. Over the past two years, the organization has worked with government agencies to support several hundred children there. The more they do, the smaller that number feels.
He hopes one day he will be out of a job because there are no more children in need of rescuing. Twenty or thirty years from now, he hopes Blue Dragon will no longer be a rescue organization. He wants it to focus on education or child development instead.
"If I walked away, how much longer would those children have before their lives became even harder? Who would become their miracle?"
That question keeps him going. He is still looking for the day he no longer has to ask it.
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