Insight Myanmar

Something in the Air

Episode #449: The first episode in a five-part series, these discussions were recorded at the 16th International Burma Studies Conference at Northern Illinois University, where scholars, students, researchers, and practitioners gathered for presentations, forums, roundtables, and cultural exhibitions exploring the theme “Dealing with Legacies in Burma.” Amid political turmoil and humanitarian crisis, this represented a rare space for open dialogue, and one in which Insight Myanmar was invited to record interviews with diverse attendees, produced in collaboration with NIU’s Center for Southeast Asian Studies. We hope that these episodes bring listeners into the atmosphere of the conference and into conversation with those shaping the field today.  The first guest, Ko A, is an academic from Rakhine State pursuing a PhD in the United States, and he reflects on Myanmar’s political trajectory and the forces shaping its conflicts. Ko A turned to political science following the 2021 coup, realizing that Myanmar’s crises are structural, rooted in institutions, militarized power, and historical patterns. He argues that early twentieth-century Burman ethnonationalism distorted the country’s political development, and the military’s alliance with Japan in World War II embedded in authoritarian tendencies. He explains that political institutions tend to retain their initial character and reinforce themselves over time. Despite the complexity and conflict, he remains optimistic, trusting that an informed younger generation and honest engagement with historical truths can guide Myanmar toward a better future.  Next, Chit Wit Yi Oo discusses her work studying water and air quality, in order to understand how environmental change is affecting public health. She launched a study on groundwater that spanned Yangon to Mandalay and the southern coast, and learned that deep wells in downtown Yangon remain relatively safe, but nearby shallow wells show severe saltwater intrusion, forcing residents to rely on rainwater for drinking while using contaminated sources for daily chores. In Mandalay, meanwhile, heavy-metal contamination from textile-dye factories has polluted wells, but families continue using this water because purified alternatives are unaffordable, with doctors reporting widespread kidney disease consistent with the findings. She also warns that many of Myanmar’s rivers, once safe to drink, are now polluted by mining, though rural families still depend on them out of necessity. Additionally, her research documents dramatic declines in Yangon’s air quality, with PM2.5 levels far above WHO guidelines since 2016 due to rapid urbanization, post-Cyclone Nargis loss of green space, traffic, dry-season burning, and pesticide-laden crop fires. Despite systemic obstacles she faced in her own education, such as not being from an elite or military family, she sees hope in the growing Burmese diaspora of researchers and experts. She ends with a plea: “We need your support. And then please help our people, and then please listen our voices and our people.”  Finally we hear from Lugyi No, a PhD student who describes how displacement, violence, and the collapse of schooling shape children’s lives in today’s Myanmar. “It is what it is,” he sharessadly. “You have to learn how you're going to survive out of those adverse situations.” Lugyi No sees many children exhibiting deep trauma— trembling and even fainting at loud sounds— yet also remarkable resilience, supported by community solidarity. Lugyi No experiences survivor guilt being safe in the US even as teachers back home continue facing danger, including deadly attacks on families. Through his graduate work, he studies trauma-informed practices, teacher resilience, and student engagement, sharing what he learns whenever possible. He urges international organizations to provide recognition pathways for displaced learners and insists that “without community support… it is hard to sustain education,” in conflict zones where survival and schooling are inseparable.

The Practice of Freedom

Episode #448: In the second of our three-part series with Steve Smith, a teacher in the Mahasi tradition, he continues reflecting on his half-century exploration into the country’s spirituality, culture, and politics, while also sharing what he learned from prolonged and intimate contact with some of the greatest meditation teachers and civil leaders of the day.   Steve went to Seikhun, Mahasi Sayadaw’s village, and started his practice there. He practiced with local villagers, as well as senior government ministers, future democratic leaders, business magnates, and others with elite social standing.  Between meditation sessions, Steve remembers long conversations that meandered between politics and practice. His fascinating, first-handaccount of the role that meditation practice played in the upper echelons of the democracy movement is one that perhaps has never been examined thoroughly by any past scholar or historian.  When Steve traveled or return back home to Hawaii, he often found himself disappointed that Buddhist and mindfulness communities elsewhere weren’t able—or even interested in trying—to integrate meditation with social engagement.  He was convinced that in Myanmar, the Dhamma was a seamless aspect of people’s everyday lives, that “the same generative and ancient teachings of the Buddha [were being] applied in their deepest personal, psychological, emotional, spiritual lives, as well as how it influenced their social, and government and business lives as well...”  He learned much from his monastic teachers about how to respond effectively to tyranny, in particular, Sayadaw U Pandita. This great teacher never engaged in acts of overt defiance or explicit advocacy, yet unmistakably signaled his displeasure in subtle ways. To Steve, this was the Burmese Saṅgha in its very best form: a calm nobility in standing up for righteousness, creating a ripple effect that impacted all of lay society.  Steve feels tremendous gratitude for the instructions he received so generously as a lay meditator and monk in Burma, the result of painstakingly care in assuring the transmission of the teachings from one generation to the next… and ultimately to foreign seekers. In return, he has given back in different ways over the years, from supporting health and education projects throughout the Sagaing Hills, to fundraising for nuns, to organizing annual acupuncture treatment for villagers. He also lent a hand when his Burmese friends found themselves in the crosshairs of the regime.

Poetic Justice

Episode #447: Maw Shein Win, a Burmese-American poet, teacher, and literary organizer based in the Bay Area, reflects on her creative path, heritage, and commitment to poetry as witness and connection.   Maw Shein Win turned to poetry while in college. She also immersed herself in the punk and experimental music scene of 1980s Los Angeles. This affected the arc of her career, as collaboration across disciplines— music, performance, and visual art— became central to her practice, and is a hallmark of her work.  Her published collections include Invisible Gifts (2018), Storage Unit for the Spirit House (2020), as well as smaller works like Tales of a Lonely Meat Eater and Scorned Bone. Storage Unit for the Spirit House emerged from time spent in storage spaces during a personal transition, merging that imagery with Burmese “spirit houses.” She says a major theme in her work is “containers”— whether memory, the body, or physical spaces— along with impermanence, healing, and family.  Deeply connected to Myanmar, she collaborates with Burmese writers to raise awareness and funds, emphasizing poetry’s role as witness. She stresses the importance of keeping the country’s struggles visible, given the decline in international media coverage. “Even if a reader has never been to Myanmar or knows nothing about it, a poem can be an entry point into understanding,”she explains.  To emerging poets, she advises “find your communities,” since no single circle can sustain a writer. For Maw Shein Win, poetry bridges cultures and art forms, opening doors for connection, empathy, and new ways of seeing.

Between Here and Home

Episode #446: This episode marks the beginning of a three-part series created during a three-day Digital Storytelling Workshop hosted by the Insight Myanmar Podcast, with support from ANU and IDRC. Over those days, emerging storytellers came together to practice something both ancient and profoundly human: telling stories. In a world increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence, the workshop served as a reminder that genuine connection — the kind built through care, honesty, and the courage to speak and listen — can never be automated. Guided by Caleb Gattegno’sinsight that “speaking is easy, communication is a miracle,” and grounded in the simple phrase we kept returning to, “tell me more,” this episode invites you to pull up a metaphorical third chair. You’ll hear participants discovering their voices in real time, offering stories that create presence, intimacy, and shared understanding through one of humanity’s oldest rituals: someone speaking, and someone listening.  The first discussion features Mora, a social worker from central Myanmar, who contrasts a peaceful childhood with the subtle discrimination he faced because of his family’s pro-democracy leanings. Disillusioned with the university system, he studied at the British Council in Mandalay, inspiring a return to his rural hometown to expand educational access there. After training at a monastic college, he introduced child-centered teaching, built a library, created safe play spaces, and partnered with INGOs on community projects. After the coup, he remained in in the country despite threats to his family to continues humanitarian work for displaced children, believing that helping even one life remains meaningful.  Nan Gyi Thoke, a Chinese visual anthropology researcher and filmmaker in Thailand, reflects on her background, her creative path and her research into migrant Myanmar filmmakers working along the Thai–Myanmar border. Her own difficulties abroad—language, culture, legal barriers and limited resources—inspired her to study how Myanmar artists persist and support one anotheramid challenging conditions and restraints. She also co-runs a volunteer Chinese-language platform that shares everyday stories from Southeast Asia to counter stereotypes. Her upbringing in a borderland minority community shapes her commitment to cultural preservation, documentary work and building meaningful connections between Chinese and Burmese communities.  Eugene is a young Shan journalist from Taunggyi who creates safety content for Shan communities and translates Burmese news for international readers. Reporting and translation have shown him how conflict, displacement, exploitation, and landmine contamination affect civilians across Shan State, which led him to develop public-education materials on landmines mines and explosive ordnance for Shan communities. He hopes to expand into original reporting, long-form and visual storytelling, and mentoring younger Shan creators.  Jeremy describes traveling widely across Myanmar and later throughout Asia. He stresses preparing for weather, food, and transportation before traveling. His work in digital policy gives him opportunities to attend conferences abroad. Japan is his favorite country for its food, culture, politeness, and cool weather. Regarding study opportunities, he encourages young Burmese to pursue scholarships, and to build skills through reading, volunteering, and gaining experience.

Framing the Dead

Episode #445: Born in Yangon in 1984 and raised in the small town of Ye, Shakeel grew up as a Muslim in a deeply divided Myanmar. His childhood was shaped by the tension between his artistic passions and the restrictions of a conservative religious environment. When he began to draw, his relatives told him it was forbidden by faith. School brought little relief—there, Buddhist classmates bullied him with the slur “kalar,” while only a few offered friendship. Books and music became his refuge from isolation.  In 2004, Shakeel began his career as a translator and editor at a sports journal. Despite his talent, he faced persistent discrimination from Buddhist colleagues who asked insulting questions about his faith. Feeling alienated, he resigned after a year. Later, at The Voice newspaper, prejudice again forced him out. “I decided I will never apply for a permanent job at a Burmese organization,” he recalls. Instead, he chose the independence of freelance journalism.  Photography became his calling—a continuation of his early love for images. But soon after he turned to photojournalism full-time, Myanmar’s 2021 coup changed everything. While documenting protests, Shakeel was arrested and tortured; his Muslim identity only made the physical abuse he suffered even harsher. Fleeing arrest, he escaped to Mae Sot, Thailand, where he continues his work documenting the conflict.  Shakeel has witnessed harrowing scenes: airstrikes on civilians in Karenni State, families torn apart, children killed. Haunted by what he saw, he photographs the dead with reverence. “I always apologize to their souls,” he says, “and promise I will use these photos for justice.” Despite lingering prejudice, Shakeel finds hope in the unity of Myanmar’s revolution. “All minorities sacrifice their lives for the country,” he says. “After the revolution, I hope we will live in a place with no discrimination, where everyone has the same opportunity.”