Join the Slow Journalism movement. See the world from a 2 mile/hour perspective .
STORIES are everywhere
![]() I was born in a country ravaged by World War II. My first and only warm dress at the time was knitted from wool my father brought back from a trip to England. The land was saline after the dykes had been broken to drive out the enemy. Food was scarce. “Broodje tevree”—satisfied sandwich—was the term used for not getting any topping on a slice of bread. I don’t remember the hardships of the early years. My belly must have been full enough, my toes warm under the covers in the cold of winter. I only heard the stories about frozen pipes, about water for tea chopped out from under the ice in a kitchen tub, my mother pregnant with me, my father away in the army. I do remember complaining that all we had was strawberries grown on the land behind our house to go with the bread on the table. Times got better in post-war Europe and my parents took advantage of opportunities, a better job, education for the children. My parents still saved the waxed paper bags the butcher packed the lunch meat in and recycled them for the sandwiches we took to school daily. My mother sewed our clothes and taught us to sew; she taught us to knit sweaters, socks and scarfs. You never know when you may need the skills she would say. My world kept expanding. At age 19, I boarded my first airplane to America for a two-month stay in New England as an au pair, a live-in nanny, earning my keep while learning about the New World. It was a BIG world; everything was big, expansive, from shampoo bottles to freeways and forests. I fell in love with nature; I hated the bigoted way some people my age made fun of my accent, my misunderstandings. I was in awe of the largesse of buildings, New York, the diversity of people, black, brown, white, yellow, red; the diversity in clothing, in accents, in spirituality. I was afraid of the narrow two party system, too narrow for all the different political views, I thought. And yet there was one common language everyone understood, one common law everyone adhered to, one government everyone was subject to. No need for passports to travel a distance, no need to exchange currency when crossing a state line. It was a world where one-ness prevailed. After two months I returned to a continent full of nations with borders, with different languages, different currencies, multi-partied parliamentary systems. I felt the restriction of the borders, the whiteness of my people, the limits of my religious upbringing. After university I travelled to escape, to learn, to embrace that bigger world. One world, we’re all people, why not? I found oneness in an ashram in the Himalayas. I found oneness with students in a coffee shop in Teheran. I found oneness at the top of Kala Patar watching the avalanches come down from Everest. I found oneness among Tibetan refugees as they shared barley tea. I married an American and set out for a life in a nation that knew oneness. I lived in a commune; I learned about New Age thinking. I learned what American humor, American song, American literature, and American history was. I gained another degree in an American University. I learned that the oneness wasn’t as one as they said it was. It took a long time for me to become an American, to raise my hand and say I would renounce my citizenship of birth. I couldn’t let go of the skills, the views, the mindset of curiosity and dialogue my parents had raised me with. I hung on to my native nationality like it was a first love. The time came when I knew I had to let go, when this vast country was more mine than the land where I had taken my first steps. After 35 years of being a legal resident, I became an American citizen in the land of the free where every religion is welcome, where tolerance is the aspired common currency. That day I raised my hand with citizens from Asia, Russia, the Philippines, France, and Turkey. Together we repeated the oath of allegiance. Together we stood for the principles of a free country. I can’t believe we now have a president who denies people access from other parts of the world. People who have gone through the vetting process, people who have skills and a worldview that will enhance the American culture of diversity, of acceptance. America was the shining example in this vast world for tolerance, for blending, for innovation. America the great experiment of what is possible among humans is turning in on itself. My view of humanity, my hope for humankind depends on the success of the American experiment. I’m an immigrant, don’t let me down. 'Subscribe, if you want to be notified of new blogs!
7 Comments
Jennifer Egan
1/30/2017 06:19:10 pm
Beautifully written and powerfully said. IT is shocking what has transpired recently. Thank you for expressing what so many of us feel so strongly. Yes things are going upside down right now.
Reply
anniek
2/4/2017 05:56:35 am
Lieve Dami,
Reply
Dami
2/4/2017 07:53:19 am
Thanks for your comment Anniek. I'm more disheartened than sad these days. I sound like my father when he was the age, I'm now: disappointed in people who govern and disappointed in people's outlook on life. Push-back from protests and inner circles made DT and his cronies take the ruling down a notch. They really hadn't thought all the consequences through or were just trying to see how far they could push it. I'm thinking the latter is the case. I don't like that shadow of Bannon behind DT at all! We'll have to talk when I come back to the old country in May! 1/30/2017 08:17:45 pm
Yours is the immigrant story, Dami. And how much poorer our lives would be if America had not opened its doors to the likes of you. I am shocked at the position Trump has taken, though I shouldn't be--he sure talked about it throughout his campaign. I am inspired though and hopeful that our great constitution will hold and that in years to come, we will open our arms to those who wish to make a life here. Great piece and very timely. Thank you.
Reply
LIA BYERS
2/4/2017 05:53:08 pm
I am brought to tears by this heart-rending plea you have written. It is powerful! I am the daughter of an immigrant from China. I want to take your plea forward to a better future for America and not this present time which shames me.
Reply
Dami
2/4/2017 09:40:49 pm
Thank you for caring so much. Let's work together and stand up for what we believe in.
Reply
Geri
2/7/2017 12:13:48 pm
Found your words to be beautiful and personal, in only the way someone who has come to America to experience the opportunities that are here for everyone. We are all troubled by the limits the president is issuing to the people of the world. I join my voice with you and others, to show that narrow thinking is not the American way.
Reply
Leave a Reply. |
Categories |