Cindy Ta entered kindergarten at Palolo Elementary School unable to speak English and will return today as a 26-year-old medical school graduate with the message that anyone — even immigrants like her who grew up in the Palolo Valley Homes public housing project — can chase their dreams.

"Even if you live in the housing, even if you go to public school, even if your parents don't speak any English, whatever dream you have, you can reach it," Ta said yesterday. "Hopefully, I can bring back the message that I learned there."

On May 30, Ta leaves for Harvard Medical School to begin a three-year residency program at Massachusetts General, where she will carry on with her new dreams of one day returning to Hawai'i "to help the community," she said. Today, Ta will share her story at a Palolo Elementary School assembly held in her honor.

Ta's journey from Vietnam to Harvard was primarily supported through the efforts of Ta's parents, who run a tiny barbershop on Monsarrat Avenue.

Paul and Tracy Ta left Vietnam as 20-year-olds with limited education. They bounced from Vietnam to Hong Kong while Cindy Ta was still growing inside her mother and arrived in Honolulu when she was just 1.

"This is the most country with freedom," Paul Ta said yesterday in between clients at his shop, Paul's Professional Barber For Men — Women & Children. "Everybody have a chance for your dream to come true. Now I am happy her dream come true. I'll miss her very much. But I am very happy my daughter can get into that school (Harvard)."

As a kindergartner in Gayle Terayama's Palolo Elementary class, Ta did not even know enough English to ask to use the bathroom, Terayama said. But by first grade, Ta was speaking fluent English and was placed in the enrichment program.

"Our kids see a lot of negative things in their life," said Ta's first-grade teacher, Sandy Kanemura. "A lot of crime goes on in the housing. There's a lot of despair and hopelessness. If they have a positive role model like Cindy — if she can do it — then they might think that they can do it, too. A role model like her gives them that glimmer of hope."

On Saturday, Ta participated in convocation ceremonies for the University of Hawai'i's John A. Burns School of Medicine and repeatedly walked up to the podium to receive five of 22 awards — the most of any of her 55 classmates — including the award for the student "who most personified the aloha spirit," the award for "exemplary compassion, competence and respect in the delivery of care," and was recognized as one of the top five seniors with outstanding academic records.

"She's a remarkable young woman," said Dr. Richard Kasuya, director of the office of medical education at the UH medical school. "She's one of the hardest-working students I've known. She's certainly one of the best and brightest, based on her performance and all of the accolades she's received. Through all of that, she's a very grounded person. Her actions represent admirable values like family and community and giving back. All of those things you and I appreciate, she embodies."

BOUND FOR AMERICA

Ta expects to have only 15 or 20 minutes with the Palolo students today. So her message of hope will be brief.

But her journey has been 26 years in the making.

"My parents set their minds on going to America," Ta said. "After the war, they knew they were going to start a family. So my dad put everything he owned on a bicycle and sold it to go on a boat to Hong Kong. They didn't have much education or vocational training, but they were proficient at making rice noodles."

Once in Honolulu, Paul Ta worked as a janitor, drove a taxi and moved from Chinatown to Waikiki and temporarily settled into the Palolo Valley Homes public housing project as the young family grew to include two sons.

"Their intention was just to receive aid temporarily until they could get on their own feet," Cindy Ta said. "My parents didn't speak English at the time and I didn't know a word of English. But my parents instilled in me that going to school was a privilege. They never said I had to go to college. They never said I had to go to medical school. They didn't even want me to. They thought it would be a very strenuous job for a woman and to raise a family."

Throughout her education at Palolo, Ta relied on her teachers to help her understand her assignments.

"If I brought it home," she said, "my parents couldn't help me. The best thing that happened to that school is having the best teachers. They really cared about us, not just as a student but as a person."

When she moved on to Kaimuki Middle School, Ta got involved in student activities and realized "we were poor. People had more material things and more clothes."

It was an embarrassment that Ta quickly got over.

"My friends were going to be my friends whether I was rich or poor," she said. "It just didn't matter, so I invited my friends to come to my house in the housing."

OUT OF THE PROJECTS

Growing up, Ta remembered her parents vowing to move out of the public housing project. And when they did, their two-story, three-bedroom apartment gave way to a much smaller, 700-square-foot apartment with only two bedrooms.

"All of a sudden we had to pay for health insurance, we had to pay for water, we had to pay for electricity, we had to pay for rent," Ta said. "Life was a lot easier in the housing, but it's a lot better out of it. We didn't want to depend on someone else our whole lives. That was a huge thing for my parents."

So Ta understands the obstacles that confront the children she will meet today at Palolo Elementary.

And she'll also remember the lessons of patience and devotion that she learned there.

As a kindergartner, Ta was frightened of her new environment but her teacher, Terayama, "was so kind and open and approachable," Ta said. "She took time to teach me English during nap time. I remember the day I was able to count from 1 to 100 in English. It was a very proud moment for me."

Terayama remembers that moment, too.

"She was a frightened little mouse," Terayama said. "She didn't even know how to say she had to go to the bathroom. But she caught on so fast. And when she counted to 100, I was just so happy."

Terayama, who retired in 2002, always had an unbendable rule in her classes, which were filled with children of immigrants who often lived in government housing and received subsidized breakfasts and lunches.

"In my class, you never said, 'I cannot do something,' " Terayama said. "You always try. It's always, 'I am going to try my best,' and Cindy did."