Recently, I became a US citizen. Many lessons surfaced.
Let’s face it. Emigrating from Canada is not a huge cultural leap. Once you get past the realization there’s an unenlightened majority who don’t love hockey - immigrating to the USA can be reduced to paperwork and a civics exam. Yet, step back and you realize more gravitas of American citizenship.
Scan through a couple of your previous generations and you’ll likely see the family tree took a left turn from a country across the pond. My maternal grandparents moved to Canada from Ireland. They picked up jobs others didn’t want. My grandfather first worked on a farm. My grandmother had multiple domestic jobs. On my dad’s side, his parents moved from Italy. In fact, my Nonno moved to Canada but his wife died. Nonno went back to Italy. Married his deceased wife’s sister (my Nonna), and moved back to BC to work in the Cominco Smelter plant in Trail. They each struggled to start a new life far from home.
At the citizenship ceremony there were 125 people representing 42 countries. War torn places like Syria and Libya. Nations suffering natural disasters and political siege, such as Somalia and Sudan. Developing countries. Countries in upheaval. Nations at peace. Places with universal healthcare and cricket. Visit any of these 42 countries, ANY of them, and you’ll find everyone’s proud to be from there. No matter how advanced, impoverished or oppressed, citizens generally ooze with pride regarding their homeland.
But, on Thursday, July 28th at 9:30 am in Irving, Texas, 125 people became proud to be an American. (The ceremony even had us sing along to Lee Greenwood’s “Proud to be an American” … a goose bumpy anthem to be sure.)
Four times INS facilitators (plus a message from President Obama) mentioned, “Many of you have travelled a great distance, overcome great challenges and struggled to get to this place in your life.” With a man on my left from Nigeria and a woman on my right from the Philippines it became clear there were 125 unique, some terrifying, stories. Accounts of people who left family, escaped oppression, ethnic cleansing, civil war and/or poverty - for a land of opportunity.
Driving to the ceremony the radio vomited one story after another about what’s wrong with the America. Billboards questioned my faith/weight/vasectomy. People begged for money in 100-degree weather. It’s easy to be distracted with what’s wrong with America.
Looking across the room, it became clear, what’s right with America. We consistently need to celebrate what we have. Remind ourselves what we are grateful for. What gives us hope and joy? How readily available fulfillment and self-actualization are with shelter, clothing and safety well in hand.
I continue to proudly retain my Canadian citizenship while I now have a unusual feeling to become accustomed to – I am an American. And I’m proud to call this home and raise my family here. (Even if most Americans don’t worship the hockey gods.)
