Mr. America
After living on a
Green Card for thirty-five years, my friend recently became an American
Citizen. The diploma on his wall represents another step in his mastery of
life, another accomplishment, another building stone of pride.
Born in Saltillo, Mexico, he grew up hard and fast. He was one of fifteen children, whose family was not blessed with wealth or property. He spent his youth on the streets, learning the rules of survival, sleeping wherever he could find shelter.
His first visit to the US was brief and he was not able to stay legally. He was merely a boy then. Back on the dangerous streets of Mexico, his determination to return grew stronger and his dream of a better life persisted.
Once he obtained the proper legal documents, he arrived in South Texas alone, penniless and with no knowledge of the English language. “Weren’t you afraid?” I asked him once, but he shook his head.
“I had no time to be afraid. I had to work…for to eat,” he replied with his heavy Spanish accent.
I have done what he did, started life over in a new country, but I had distinct advantages: Money and a working knowledge of the native language. Even so, I can attest to the difficulties, obstacles and the unexpected culture shock. It boggles my mind how he managed to adjust with all the odds against him.
Unafraid of hard work, he has at times held several jobs at once, and with his equally hard working wife, raised five strong, healthy children. He owns property now, is politically savvy and much loved in the community. The family home is a favorite gathering place for kids and grandkids.
They call him “Tata”, a term of endearment for “Grandfather”, and his grandkids adore him. A man of short stature, he has the heart of a giant. He formed a special bond with my bed-ridden, gravely disabled son. I fight back tears when I see them smile at one another.
Now, “Tata” is an American citizen, and no man could be prouder of his chosen country. He called to tell me when he passed his exam. Tongue-in-cheek, he quipped, “Now I’m a white guy.”
It is wonderful that our country has a way for great people to naturalize into citizenship. They bring a richness of experience, a wide-open gift of the world. I treasure this part of our heritage. And I treasure “Tata”, the American, who proudly displays his hard-earned diploma on his bedroom wall.
Born in Saltillo, Mexico, he grew up hard and fast. He was one of fifteen children, whose family was not blessed with wealth or property. He spent his youth on the streets, learning the rules of survival, sleeping wherever he could find shelter.
His first visit to the US was brief and he was not able to stay legally. He was merely a boy then. Back on the dangerous streets of Mexico, his determination to return grew stronger and his dream of a better life persisted.
Once he obtained the proper legal documents, he arrived in South Texas alone, penniless and with no knowledge of the English language. “Weren’t you afraid?” I asked him once, but he shook his head.
“I had no time to be afraid. I had to work…for to eat,” he replied with his heavy Spanish accent.
I have done what he did, started life over in a new country, but I had distinct advantages: Money and a working knowledge of the native language. Even so, I can attest to the difficulties, obstacles and the unexpected culture shock. It boggles my mind how he managed to adjust with all the odds against him.
Unafraid of hard work, he has at times held several jobs at once, and with his equally hard working wife, raised five strong, healthy children. He owns property now, is politically savvy and much loved in the community. The family home is a favorite gathering place for kids and grandkids.
They call him “Tata”, a term of endearment for “Grandfather”, and his grandkids adore him. A man of short stature, he has the heart of a giant. He formed a special bond with my bed-ridden, gravely disabled son. I fight back tears when I see them smile at one another.
Now, “Tata” is an American citizen, and no man could be prouder of his chosen country. He called to tell me when he passed his exam. Tongue-in-cheek, he quipped, “Now I’m a white guy.”
It is wonderful that our country has a way for great people to naturalize into citizenship. They bring a richness of experience, a wide-open gift of the world. I treasure this part of our heritage. And I treasure “Tata”, the American, who proudly displays his hard-earned diploma on his bedroom wall.
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