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- Anonymous,Tuesday, June 19, 2007 - 7:27pm
An Extended Family of Immigrants
I am an immigrant. My husband is the son of immigrants. What does that make our children 1st 1/2 generation? My father-in-law is a holocaust survivor from Poland. My mother-in-law was born in Bermuda with her maternal roots in Guyana and paternal roots in Venezuela. I am from Belize. I was brought to this country as a child by a mother suffering from domestic abuse. Our family was once close and successful. We were therefore not economic refugees, but refugees from a society that tolerated de facto spousal abuse where husbands were systematically allowed to beat their wives, sometimes to death, with impunity.
I was forced to watch my very assertive and educated mother be subject to this type of treatment which resulted in extreme stress levels and eventually a serious heart condition. She lives today with this disease. I was likewise forced to watch the systematic abuse of my grandmother and countless aunts (both emotional and physical) at the hands of my grandfather and uncles-in-law. Until my mother who was more educated than the others and who had traveled to countries outside of our own and had bourne witness to the fact that most women in the U.S. for example were not forced to live with this indignity and in fear. She said enough!
She then hatched a plan for her escape and with some of my siblings in tow and a wad of my father's cash she took flight, entering the United States in July 1978 at New Orleans, finally making her way a few weeks later to Minnesota where she had two sisters. My brothers and I followed shortly after our father realized that our mother would never come back and that we were desperate to be with her. I arrived first escorted by a nun from the all girls convent school I attended. My brothers followed a year later accompanied by my father who had come to seek a reconciliation with my mother. She refused, of course. Opting for a life of struggle as a single mother in the U.S. than for one with a husband and father for her children but loaded with fear, abuse and uncertainty.
By that time we had already moved to New York City. All six children and my mother crowded into small spaces until we could do better. We all attended high school and graduated and five of six of us attended college and graduated. Three of the five now hold advanced degrees in law, education and social science.
We have survived the destruction of our family and the constant exposure to domestic violence. All the women in my family are women's rights advocates and my brothers work to prevent and educate on domestic violence.
The United States has proved to be a refuge to me and my immediate family members from the ravages of domestic violence as there is accountability for the most part, and women have recourse and resources to advocate for their cause. If my mother had not fled to the U.S. she may be dead today a the hands of my father. In a way she saved them both.
- Anonymous,Tuesday, August 14, 2007 - 5:06pm
Let’s imagine you are the only child, living with your parents in a small apartment in a small city. Your parents are from South Korea, but you’re born in the United States. You feel that Korea is a strong part of your cultural foundation and heritage, but you consider the United States your home. Life is normal with the routine of school, play, and family. Then, all of a sudden, your life turns completely upside down.
My parents came to the United States as a young married couple in 1984 to Toledo, Ohio, so they could have a better chance to succeed in all aspects of life. My father attended the University of Toledo. I was born in June 1990. My father graduated from with a degree in Mechanical Engineering. Afterwards our family made a visit to South Korea for about 7 months. When my family came back to the United States, my father wanted to study English at a language school in Michigan; however he was redirected back to the University of Toledo for a major in Business Administration. The paperwork was incorrectly filed and my parents received inaccurate legal advice. In 1999 my father received a form from the government to work in the United States. As a result, he figured that now his immigration status was okay. But in reality my dad’s immigration status, as well as my mom’s, became undocumented
Meanwhile, I was growing up and attending school. I never knew or even realized that my parents had issues with their immigration status in the first place. It just never came to my mind, and I never remember asking about it. That all changed on February 14, 2005 (Valentine’s Day) as my mom was picked up from our home by ICE (Immigrations and Customs Enforcement) and Toledo Police officers. My mom was held in several different jails all across Michigan. Her health, mentally and physically, started to deteriorate. My dad and I were hurt so much since we could do absolutely nothing to help her. After 6 long months in which it seemed like there was no end in sight. My mom was never granted the right to have a court hearing or placed on bond. My father decided that it was time to go back to South Korea. It was the only way that my mom could get out of jail. On August 11, 2005, my parents voluntarily deported themselves. I stayed behind in the United States because it was the only home I’d ever known, and my parents knew that it would be an immense challenge for me to live in South Korea. I would not be able to survive the rigorous educational system in South Korea as I never really used Korean. At the Detroit Metro Airport, my parents were saying hello to a nation that they had not lived in for 20 years. I stayed behind saying hello to an entire new life without my parents.
I’ve gone on legislative visits, rallies, and written to elected officials for my parents to come back to the United States faster than their ten year bar created by the 1996 immigration laws. Then I did something else that was different from anything else I have done concerning immigration and my parents. Recently I went on a tour called Dreams Across America. The Dreams Across America Tour was a journey where a cross section of 105 American immigrants came together from ten different cities all across the United States and rode on trains to Washington D.C. Each one of those 105 immigrants were messengers who shared personal stories to communicate the need to change our current immigration laws. We met in Washington D.C. to let the public and our elected officials know what our current immigration laws do to families, and how it hurts all Americans-U.S. born, like me, as well as immigrants.
My dream was to bring my parents back to the United States, but I also realized that it can’t be just about my family in this immigration struggle. The Dreams Across America Tour opened my eyes to others people’s immigration struggles, and made me realize that I am not the only person struggling because of current immigration laws. One person I met was Hang Youk, a Korean who came from Houston, Texas. Hang’s family was being sponsored for green cards through his father. On June 2, 2000, Hang’s father was gunned down in a convenience store, and immediately following, Hang’s family received a notification from the INS (Immigration and Naturalization Services) that their request for permanent residency had been denied due to their father’s death. Hang still attends university, but his family’s immigration status is undocumented. Now Hang was on the Dreams Across America Tour to keep the hope alive that his family would not face deportation or discrimination and to tell the true human side of immigration. His story reminded me that our immigration system in place is unjust and needs to be changed. Dreams Across America made me realize that we all need to do our part to continue working together as a whole toward comprehensive immigration reform. It also helped strengthen my ideals to continue fighting for my parents, but also for other immigrants as well.
Our current immigration laws affect all Americans. I am a U.S. born citizen, but I am separated from my family. I am currently doing an internship for NAKASEC (National Korean American Services and Education Consortium) to learn more about immigration reform. After a month here, I will head off to South Korea for one year to be with my family and make up for lost time that we couldn’t spend with each other. I am also leaving behind the friends, school, and life I always knew back in Toledo, Ohio, THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. I hope that I can still do my part to help push for immigration reform and for me to return to America after that one year in Korea, with my parents by my side. - Anonymous,Tuesday, July 10, 2007 - 7:24pm
I had the good fortune of being born in the USA. I conside the great immigrant tide here - legal and illegal - as an asset to our country. Perhaps the immigrants themselves will have hard, low payinf jobs and be at the bottom of the socioeconomic ladder but wait for their children to achieve the dreams of thier parents. The woman I married was illegal from El Salvador and at one time we had a difficult time for her to cross the border if you know what I mean. But she finally got her green card and our marriage resulted in five children 3 of whom are bi-lingual. One son is a Deputy Sheriff and a member of the U.S. Marine Corps Reserves. One daughter is a bi-lingual social worker. All our children are gainfully employed and contributing to our society. It turns out my wife comes from a very large extended family both here and in El Salvador and we make frequent trips there & they come here. I believe the problem with those against (illegal) immigration is that they are short sighted and don't realize the benefits the off-spring can be to our great country. Also they probably don't know any illegals on a personal basis. If they did and could speak Spanish with them, they'd know that these folks are just trying to better thier and their children lives. I know if I had been born south of the border, I'd be one of the first to come to this great country of ours. They have brought their love of family, great foods (I love Mexican and Salvadorian food especially papusas and fried bananas con crema), and love of God. Their hard work under auster conditions is legendary. My own grandparents were immigrants from Ireland. There is a lot of criticism of the folks from south of the border speaking only Spanish but I think that is only normal. If a North American goes to a non-English speaking country is he or she going to speak the language of that country? No. I believe we all have to try and learn the baisics at leat of another language in order to communicate. If we can communicate then we can appreciate each other. If I didn't know some Spanish I never would have been able to meet the beautiful young lady who bacme my wife and five grandchildren later is still such a beautiful wonderful wife. Pero yo soy un Mexicano en mi corazon y yo apprendo espanol en las calles de Mexico quando soy muy joven. Hoy soy un vehito. Todos de Die4os.
- Anonymous,Monday, July 9, 2007 - 7:01pm
Let America be America Again
- by LANGSTON HUGHES 1938
Originally published in Esquire and in the International Worker Order pamphlet A New SongLet America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one's own greed!I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today—
O, Pioneers! I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home—
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."The free?
Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me?
The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay—
Except the dream that's almost dead today.O, let America be America again—
The land that never has been yet—
And yet must be—
the land where every man is free.The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME—
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again, America!O, yes, I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath-- America will be!Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain—
All, all the stretch of these great green states—
And make America again!





