When you walk into the Jeffrey Allen Gallery in downtown Tigard you are greeted by an abundance of greenery and history; tumbling orchids and fruit trees, ready to be pruned; antique cabinets, tables, and statues, ready to be taken home; and, in the back of the shop, a working Vietnamese temple. For Allen Luong, the founder and owner of the gallery, the temple embodies the Mother Spirit practice, Đạo Mẫu — a philosophy that emphasizes honoring one’s ancestors and preserving cultural history.
Luong was born in 1968 in Saigon, Vietnam, to parents with entrepreneurial spirits. His mother, who came from generations of businesspeople, worked in shipping, whereas his father, who came from a family of farmers, owned a pharmaceutical company. Between the two of them, they had connections with the Japanese, French, and American governments, and spoke over nine languages. Luong’s own first language was French, having not learned Vietnamese until the second grade.
Luong regards his upbringing in Vietnam warmly. His family lived on a busy commercial street almost within sight of the US Embassy, in a four-story house that was full of kids. In addition to Luong and his eleven siblings, his parents raised nineteen adopted children. Luong notes that adopted and biological children were treated equally. “My parents would always try to get them to go to school and, eventually, find work and get married.”
Living in the city, Luong’s family wasn’t affected by the war until it reached their doorstep. One of Luong’s brothers, who served in the South Vietnamese navy, realized how the family’s connections to foreign governments and their military service made them an immediate target for the Viet Cong. “He got word very quickly that the South was going to fall, so he called my parents and said, ‘Mom, Dad, we gotta go,’” Luong explains. “My parents split us into five groups and told us to leave however we could, by plane or boat. That was April 29, 1975.”
“I saw planes, I saw helicopters everywhere,” Luong adds, “but as a kid I didn’t know what was going on. My sister just told me, ‘Come on, we’re on a trip,’ and that was it.” Luong himself went on his brother’s battleship — arriving in Guam and reuniting with his family through the Red Cross.
Luong and his family arrived in California, at Camp Pendleton like many other Vietnamese families. They relocated to Oregon shortly after, where they stayed in the basement of a Lutheran church until they began renting their own house. Luong’s father soon found work as a custodian and was quickly promoted to a management position at a Nordstrom store. Three years later, he and Luong’s mother took over the first Vietnamese grocery store in Portland and, over time, opened multiple other establishments, including a gas station, gift shop, and restaurant.
Luong’s own experience adjusting to American life reflects that of many Vietnamese immigrants. He recalls his classmates asking whether his family had lived in grass huts or had indoor plumbing. Little did they know that seven-year old Luong came from a large home in Saigon that could have easily fit the single family homes he saw here within its courtyard. A few years later, his parents decided to sell their businesses in Portland and relocate to San Jose, California. They returned to Portland, Oregon in 2004 to be close to family, where they continued to cultivate the Mother Spirit practice until their passing.
Luong, on the other hand, remained in Portland with his sister, graduating from Benson High School and, with the encouragement of his horticulture teacher, attending Oregon State for agriculture and education. Following graduation, he moved to Miami and built a successful career in visual marketing and sales for cut flowers. “My dad was a big plant geek,” Luong recalls fondly. “I used to garden with him, so it was just something I was interested in.” Moreover, working with plants represents Luong’s love for the natural world.
A few years later, he returned to Portland to uphold a promise he’d made to the same horticulture teacher: that, should a teaching position open at his old high school, he would take it. He taught for many years, serving as the faculty advisor for his school’s chapter of Future Farmers of America (FFA) and bringing students to national competitions. When instability arose due to budget cuts, Luong began working multiple jobs, including landscaping in order to pay off his student loans. When he quit teaching nine years later, he made a living creating landscapes and interior designs for his former students’ families, building enough savings to open his own business; thus, Jeffrey Allen Gallery was born.
The gallery offers multiple services, from landscape consultation to home decor — artifacts and antiques imported mainly from Southeast Asia. “In a weird, indirect way, I’m sort of somebody’s feng shui person,” Luong jokes. “But I don’t work for people. I always tell [my clients]: I will work with you to accomplish what you wish your home to be, but I don’t work for you.”
This mindset draws from Luong’s strong value for preserving his familial and cultural legacy.
“For us, it’s really important that we never forget where we’re from,” Luong explains. “Learning from my own mother, who was nurturing, caring, who sacrificed for the betterment of her family, that’s the Mother Spirit practice. We, today, get to be a steward for this practice.”
Recently, Luong transferred fifty-one percent ownership of the Jeffrey Allen Gallery to his niece, emphasizing his commitment to upholding his family legacy. Luong is also working with preservation societies in Vietnam to connect with other practitioners of the Mother Spirit practice, as well as educate youth, particularly Vietnamese youth, about their cultural heritage. “When you come from a war-torn country, it’s hard to talk about anything other than the most immediate fifty years of history,” Luong reflects. “But we come from a country that has existed for thousands of years.” Moving forward, Luong hopes to continue sharing the beauty and resilience of his native country, one ornate blossom and treasured artifact at a time.