Welcome to American
The notion exists that, in some way, every person who leaves their nation to settle in the United States is running away from something bad and towards something good.
Frankly, nothing could be further from the truth for a great deal of the immigrants that I know. The truth is that in this nation there are many foreign born individuals who were neither tired nor hungry when they arrived on our shores.
The leaving of one’s homeland is a concept that is more than familiar to me. I’ve often referred to my family as jet setter bedouins of the modern era. In my head, of course.
Nearly sixty years ago, both of my grandfathers left their ancestral homes in India and crossed a man made border and became Pakistanis. Twenty years after that, their children left Pakistan and magically became Americans.
I am a woman who is quite aware of the artificial aspects of the construct we call “nationality.”.
Still, nearly two weeks ago when we received a letter from INS instructing my husband to report to his oath ceremony I reacted with a considerable amount of glee. “Daddy is going to be an American,” I cried to our daughter, “Isn’t that wonderful? Congratulations Daddy, isn’t this exciting?!”
My husband smiled an odd smile, not the kind of smile that I expected. It was not the usual smile, the one that can brighten any room or get us free tickets to Disney while we’re standing at the gates with our wallet out (yes, that happened, twice).
It was… a sad smile.
The kind of smile that you force onto your face when you know that you are leaving something precious and meaningful behind. The kind of smile that you must put on your face, so that others are unaware of the pain that lives behind it.
You see, like so many immigrants in this country, my husband has nothing to run from.
If he lived in India, his life would be beautiful and amazing. He would fit in all the time. He wouldn’t have to bend his mind around the most simple cultural nuances that we take for granted here. He would never have to mow a lawn, do the dishes, or clean the pool. Because, back home, they have people for that.
In all ways, his life would most likely have been easier in India.
These things didn’t occur to me until I saw that sad smile on his face.
That smile told me that being the native born American child of immigrants is not the same thing as being a naturalized American.
We, the children, are the beneficiaries. We do not feel the pain as acutely of turning over the old passport for the new one. We do not feel the sensations in our hearts that make us feel that we are somehow betraying who we are and those we have left behind.
I have no words for my husband on this day that will quiet those thoughts. They may very well be true, I don’t know.
I do know this, though.
I can recognize that he did not decide to become American because India is a bad place or that the people were bad there.
I can recognize that opening one door means closing another, and that it is alright and completely understandable to feel ambivalent and even a little sad about that.
I can recognize that he, like my parents, did this for me and for his children.
I can recognize that as our children get older and he tells them that he became an American for them, they will grow up, as I did, with a deep feeling of importance and a sense of destiny because of his actions today.
I can recognize the incredible strength it takes to forgo one set of emotional attachments for another.
I can recognize the wisdom that we live in a world where international alliances are precarious at best, and the borders and hearts of every nation become less welcoming with every year that passes. At the very least, having matching passports would offer us the perceived comfort of knowing that we will always be together.
I can recognize that like my parents, more than the word, “Congratulations” from me on this slightly bittersweet day, he needs to hear the words “Thank you.”
Thank you, Tariq, for becoming an American today for our family.
May this day open the doors before you to all sorts of joys, prosperity and goodness that will quiet the sad feeling that there may be some that are slowly closing behind you.
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I totally cried when I read this entry, because my dad had that same smile when he got his citizenship a few years back. Your entries about this issue always touch a nerve so deep….and I love every minute of it.
Thank you.
@Robin, Thank *you*, I knew you’d understand this all too well. As usual.
I’ve long suspected that my notions about why people become Americans were fueled by something of a nationalistic mythology (of course everyone wants to be American, why wouldn’t they?) – and I am so thankful for this new approach to thinking about the concept. Thank you for writing this post.
@CoffeeJitters (Judy Haley), The funny thing is despite the fact that among a family of American citizens, I am the *only* (in my immediate family besides my kids) one who was born here, I never really understood this until this specific situation.
I have a hard time trading in my California driver’s license for a Florida one…there is no way that I can even imagine what it’s like to turn over my citizenship of my native country for a new one.
Tariq is an amazing man and I wish him the best.
@Hilly, Thanks. I’ll let him know you think so. And you remember that you think so next time he shakes an empty glass at you and says, “Honey!”
@Hilly, Heh, after 2-1/2 years I still haven’t traded my Cali license for a Hawaii one, but that’s due more to laziness and the fact that they made the process here more difficult than it needs to be.
He’s a great man – and we are lucky to have him as a fellow citizen. Also, I’d like him to take me and my family to Disney.
I’ll say it, anyway – congratulations, Tariq! And thanks.
@Sybil Law, I think it’s entirely appropriate for you to say Congratulations! I’ll pass it on. And we’d loooove to take your family to Disney as soon as it stops being a blazing inferno from the summer heat.
This is part of my issue with American citizenship. Many other countries do not require the individual to renounce their citizenship to other countries when becoming a citizen of that country. (Examples: I have a colleague who holds both Canadian and British passports, and my father is both a Canadian and Italian citizen.) It would be nice if Tariq could become an American citizen yet remain a citizen of India as well if he chooses.
Regardless, there must ultimately be benefits to you and your family remaining in the U.S. instead of India or Pakistan, so I would guess Tariq believes it is worth it.
@SciFi Dad, I guess the idea behind it is that no man can serve two masters? Plus, you hippie Canadians have this weird and annoying habit of not pissing off the rest of the world. But, hey, we have Brad Pitt. DO YOU HAVE BRAD PITT?! I DIDN’T THINK SO.
::sigh::
That’s all I got.
@Faiqa, Hahaha this little exchange made me laugh out loud. We ARE annoyingly nice, aren’t we?
I’m feeling so much reading this.
Pride and happiness and sadness.
But mostly, I’m felling this big heavy weight in my heart that says that – for many reasons – today is a very, very big deal.
Thinking of Tariq today.
@Miss Britt, *sigh* FEELING, not felling.
@Miss Britt, I’ll let him know.
And you get it. Big. Surprise.
Well, shit. I’ll cancel the strip-o-gram I was sending to him.
@Avitable, Hahaha… I just pictured how a “Welcome to America” strip-o-gram would play out …. something about reality TV, Wal Mart and the hypocrisy of nuclear non proliferation.
She’s a smart stripper, OK?
To Tariq: the WORLD needs more men like you who will take big huge steps like this for your family. The WORLD, not just the U.S. And you will always be a man of the world.
Faiqa, how is it that your writing gets better better better and better lately? Seriously. Is it a post partum thing? You have always been good but the last ones have given me big ol’ goosebumps/
@Nanna, It *is* a post partum thing. I’m hoping the baby was sucking up some of my intellect while he was gestating and that now I have it back. OR it could be that my writing got worse for nine months and now it’s just back where it was to begin with. Hmmm…
Welcome, Tariq.
Remember that no matter what the passport says, no matter where you lay your head, you will always be what you are. And what you are is quite the impressive human being.
@Finn, That was very sweet. Thank you — I think more than any other time, he needs to hear these things today.
Just in case I needed to shed a few tears today…….
I’d like to throw in a Thank You to Tariq as well, because I love that he loves you and your babies so much….
Oh, one more thing…..
Whenever Sarah, Beau or I left the house, as teenagers, my fathers parting words were “Remember who you are”. Obviously at that age I thought he was a big dork but as I’ve gotten older I have realized that these words are appropriate for many reasons and in many ways. As long as we remember who we are it will never matter where we are or what some paperwork says.
@Courtney Haynes, Your dad? Rocks. That is all. (Oh, and “As long as we remember who we are it will never matter where we are or what some paperwork says.” Brilliant.).
The best way to judge the character of a man is by what he is willing to do for his family.
Tariq is truly one of the best.
Congratulations and thank you.
@Sheila (Charm School Reject), Very well said.
I’m glad to have been given this perspective. I don’t think anything will remove that small sting from his heart, but I hope that being an American will help his quality of life here. He’s still Tariq either way, but obviously there are plenty of people who wouldn’t view it so open-mindedly.
Regardless of whose political boundaries he fall within, the largest decision has already been made. He married you. I’d say his judgment is fairly sound.. Well, for the most part.
@RebTurtle, For the most part. That made me laugh. And kinda made me want to smack you. In a good natured Aloha sort of way, of course.
@Faiqa, I have my own wife for that.
@RebTurtle, Well, YEAH. I said I *felt* like smacking you, not that I was *going* to smack you.
Well I guess that whole moving to Canada thing is out then. Dang!
Once again, you blog about the things some of us are afraid to ask. I have indeed thought about how this would impact someone who has left behind a country they love. When I was a kid/teenager, it was assumed by the adults around me that my friends at school had left behind war-torn countries and the like, and I found it very hard to believe that could be true of the entire rest of the world.
I’ll be thinking of Tariq today – I’m sure he is a little torn up over this but I also think you guys will keep India close to your hearts and teach your children about your beloved country and culture.
In the meantime, I hope you write more about it – I find it fascinating.
xo
@Karen Sugarpants, Hmmm, I don’t know. If Barack hadn’t won, I’d probably be writing about *my* oath ceremony today.
This is a great perspective to read. As usual.
I would be interested to read more about why it’s good for the kids, though. (Both you and yours.)
@Ren, Hmmm. Yeah, I guess that would be a good post. Apparently, the fact that I turned out TOTALLY awesome is not a good enough of a “why”.
@Faiqa, Are you implying that you would have turned out less awesome in India or Pakistan?
@Ren, Of course not. I would just be awesome in a different way.
See what I did there?
@Faiqa, I’m still wondering why it’s better for the kids….
@Ren, Fine. I was trying to go funny, but since you want to get all *serious*. I don’t think I ever intimated that it’s necessarily better for *all* kids to be raised here, or even that it’s better for my kids to be raised here.
I only know the reasons that my parents had when they came here. In the 70s, my parents felt that their children would get a better education here. Adding to that was the fact the I am a girl, and there is no denying that because I grew up here there has been a lot more flexibility regarding the ways that I choose to live or the educational paths I have taken. And they were right, even barring that I’m a girl. My brother, who grew up here, is the most educated man in this generation of our family. I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that he grew up here. I think about who he would have been if he had grown up there, and I know the outcome would have been vastly different.
The situation snce the 70s has evolved much. I think the better Pakistani and Indian universities and the educational system can actively compete with that of the US, so that’s not an issue. Also, if you’re rich enough there, an American life can be replicated there quite easily. So, the situation for my kids would not specifically be better, and that was an undertone in this post.
Tariq didn’t become an American citizen because it would give his kids a necessarily *better* life. He has resided in the United States for 13 years, now. Since his parents are Indian expats living in Saudi, he has only lived in India for 8 years. Also, he has a great job here and as any sane person would do has actively assimilated into the lifestyle of people around him. Furthermore, I have never lived in India and have no family there. Including the kids, his passport was the odd man out.
The truth is that we’re not confident that the discussions surrounding immigration in this country are going to allow the status of permanent resident (green card holder) to remain as steadfast as it has been in the past. Citizenship, unless the circumstances are dire, cannot be revoked or subverted. Ten years ago, this argument would have sounded silly to me, but the suspicions and disrespect that we’ve had to endure as a family has completely changed my mind. Many of the people in this nation showed me very clearly that they do not trust *me* or cared to protect *my* rights, a woman who was born here and loves this nation deeply, I have no hopes for their initiative to protect someone who is a measly green card holder.
In short, it’s better for MY kids because they won’t have to worry about their dad being detained at an immigration checkpoint for four hours for no good reason or, worse, not being given permission to re-enter. It will be better because it ensures that we’ll always be *together*.
@Faiqa, Thank you for indulging me. Honestly, I already expected that my question wasn’t really applicable to Tariq and your kids.
I don’t have that notion. I know enough people who moved here for a variety of reasons that it doesn’t even occur to me to assume people are trying to escape something. Life’s just a big adventure and you follow it where it takes you…
…or you’re running from a scary dictator. That too.
@Poppy, Scary dictators are definitely good reasons to run.
I had to get that comment out of the way before I could read anymore.
Tariq, thank you for making a personal sacrifice for the betterment of your family. I cannot imagine how hard that must be for you to do, to give up your birth nationality in exchange for this melting pot of craziness.
You’re still the same lovable Tariq to me no matter which oath you take.
@Poppy, That was really sweet… I’ll be sure that he reads this.
i can certainly understand his reaction. It must be a hell of a conflict for someone to put the official finishing touches on his own heritage, in a sense, for another.
Faiqa, I have felt sad, divided, confused, happy, amongst other things this week and in the classic Tariq style, i managed to internalize most of it…until I read this post. I just want to tell you that I love you and with the passing of each major event in our lives, I am reminded how marrying you was the best decision of my life. Thanks for understanding exactly how I was feeling about this decision and communicating exactly what I wanted to hear.
As to the rest of your readers: thank you for the wonderful comments each one of you left.
@tariq, *sniffle* I wish it was October 24 already.
Thank you, Tariq, and welcome to this wacky country we call America.
@Elizabeth Kaylene, We are wacky, aren’t we? In the most awesome and fear inspiring way possible. Like Alice from the Brady Brunch. With nuclear capabilities.
Tariq is a great guy. And thank you for providing another much needed perspective.
@Jason, You’re very welcome, and yes, he is a great guy.
I loved this post. Loved it. Congratulations on the “matching passports”… I’m sure it would have made a wife with OCD just *crazy*! Hahaha
@Bre, It *did* make me crazy, but since the Indian passport is also blue like the American one, it didn’t bother me too much. Visually, anyway.
YAY! More taxes!
@whall, Well, he’s been paying taxes all these years. I think, “Yaaay less of a chance of me getting picked for jury duty if I live in Central Florida!” is probably more appropriate.
got the chills.
very impressive piece of writing.
thank you.
@justsomethoughts, Thank you! And extra thanks for taking the time to let me know you think so.
how could i have missed this the other day?!??!! ugggh.
i never thought of someone becoming a citizen the way you presented it. thank you.
thank you, tariq, for being such an incredible man. on so many levels.
My husband is planning on getting his paperwork started this autumn. I told him I would NEVER force him to give up his citizenship (even though his country allows for dual citizenship). He talked about doing it one day, and I was surprised. I don’t know how I feel about it. I understand his reasoning, but I still don’t know I feel except for conflicted.
Wow, great entry. Very touching. Sound reasoning. Avoiding nasty lines at immigration certainly holds appeal. ;p
Hi, I have never ever commented here before, but reading this I felt compelled to say how beautiful this post is. I cried reading it. You have great understanding on this matter, fair play to you woman. Thank you for sharing. By the way your husband is a dote for doing this for you all. Best wishes.
I read this, and I don’t know what it was exactly that you said but it struck so so close to home and I cried and cried and cried.
Nine months ago, the thought of some day giving up my passport and trading it in for a new shiny blue one made me so incredibly sad. But I knew I had to do it, eventually, for my family, for our “forever”. Because this is what I chose, I chose to somehow fall in love with an American, I chose to stay in this country to raise our family, I chose my “married” family over my “blood” family. I chose to give up the maids, the driver, the luxury for a paycheck to paycheck, teacher-cop common income. I chose this, and I would have never traded it for the world. I had made peace with it, struggled with the demons, struggled with the understanding that all because I gave up my silly little red passport, it didn’t mean that I gave up who I was, my “Malaysia-ness”, my culture, my heritage. No, those things would never be taken away from me, I was who I was and a green card, a citizenship, would never take that away from me. I could still celebrate and be so proud to be an American but I could also very well be so much still a Malaysian. I had somewhat assimilated, the blending of cultures and the fusion of being American Malaysian had happened over the last eight years and while I still may not get every joke or song or random tv show, and while my friends may still laugh and make fun then patiently teach me “American” things like pumpkin patches and Thanksgiving…I was getting there but yet, my heart ached. Like leaving a long lost friend, a security blanket, an identity.
We started the process. And on the day I was approved for my green card, in her little voice, she beamed and smiled and said, “does this mean you get to stay forever?” And I knew, I knew that I had made the right decision. To stay. To apply. To give up everything back home, and all the comforts, to let us be a family. To stay a family. To grow our family.
But then my world came crashing crashing down. And I have questioned every single thing since. I have pored and struggled and discussed and addressed from every angle. The emotional blood bath and craziness of the situation aside, this immigration has become incredibly complicated and overwhelming. I have met with my lawyers for hours and hours discussing how this happened, what happened, the intimate details all spread out and torn apart and coldly typed up in words and sentences. He has no legal ground but because I am the “foreigner”, I don’t have much of a say. The gist of it essentially boiling down to whether it means more to be an American or a Malaysian.
And most people are mind boggled that I am choosing the route that I am choosing. Because this is America, the land of the free, the land of opportunities and so so many people want to migrate here. There is more than enough evidence to substantiate me staying here in terms of a PR and eventually a citizenship. It’s part of the VAWA act, something so incredibly embarrassing in and in itself. Every lawyer across the board thinks I should stay because again, isn’t that what everybody is suppose to want? To want to be American? I didn’t marry him for a green card, I never have. I never chose to stay in America because I wanted to be American, I chose to stay because I fell in love, with a boy and a little girl and I stayed because I thought they were my forever family.
But this time I choose Malaysia. I choose to go home. I choose to go back to all the things I know, all the people that love me unconditionally and the support of family that seems so incredibly safe and comforting right now. I choose “easy”, I choose the lifestyle, I choose being as far away as possible, I choose to give up my PR even if it means that there is a strong possibility that I can never return because of the dirty dirty games that he is playing. I choose this, and it is hard, and so so overwhelming. In this decision, I also choose to leave everything I have known in the last eight years, I choose to leave so so many friends and “surrogate” families, and culture that I am more familiar with now. I choose to leave religious and political freedom, the beauty of this country. I choose to leave all the things and traditions and nuances that I have picked up and all the things that I have come to love so much about this country. I choose to leave a dream, a “family”, I choose to leave this behind. And again, I am heartbroken because it feels like I am choosing to leave so many things that I also associate with my identity.
I am struggling, but this time, I know that this decision is for my family too. The prodigal daughter returns, defeated, broken in so many ways but they are so so incredibly proud and happy and welcoming. I have to do this, I have to go home. I can’t break their hearts again and in my heart of hearts, I know that this is the right decision for my life at the moment. It still doesn’t make it any less hard.
Immigrant, Assimilated, Permanent Resident, American, Malaysian, Citizen…whatever it is. We make the choices we have to make for ourselves, for the ones we love, for a future.
But it doesn’t make it hurt any less either way.
Holy moly, sorry about that, I didn’t mean for it to be that long. I just started writing and rambling and I should probably pay you for the therapy.
Thanks.
@racheal, No, please don’t apologize– thank you for sharing your incredible perspective. I wish you the absolute best of luck and hope that you heal from what sounds like an incredible ordeal.
Oh please! cut the crap! Your parents and your husband became Americans because of the better life style here. India and Pak both are third world countries. The life there with so many uneducated closed minded people will be tough no matter how rich you are. But India is improving. It needs all its educated people to help the economy and the other underdeveloped people. Your husband’s sad smile was because he was feeling guilty. He was abandoning his country, his team and joining the wining – more powerful team. He just chose to be a waterboy of a winning team than be the captain of his losing home team. Its just his conscience telling him the ugly truth how selfish he is.
@kumar, First of all, you idiotic piece of shit, nobody talks about my husband that way, especially on my blog. You’re kind of a jerk, aren’t you? As well as an idiot. That special kind of idiot that makes assumptions about people he doesn’t even know.
I assure you that my husband is not a water boy in this nation. He occupies the top 5% income bracket here… and works for a multinational company in a prestigious position. Furthermore, you have absolutely no INKLING of my parent’s lifestyle or their associations in Pakistan. The backwoods dahati village mochi wallahs you associate with might lead you to believe that there’s close mindedness that might exist, but my family? We didn’t run with that crowd. In our circle, people with a Masters degree were considered “uneducated.” So fuck off with your assumptions about why you think my parents left, you asshole.
You know what’s close minded? An ass that comments on someone’s blog that presumes to know more about someone than they know about themselves.
Ironically, I’m assuming that you stumbled across this site by googling “green card” or “immigration.” Here’s hoping that your sorry ass stays wherever you are right now… and that nobody in your nation is foolish enough to make a “captain” of the village idiot that you’ve shown yourself to be in this comment.
Well said. Go Faiqa!
@Faiqa,
i didn’t think it possible, but i think i love you just a little more today than i did yesterday.
@Faiqa, Very well said, Faiqa. This piece of shit has no clue.
@Faiqa, You are fabulous Faiqa and this person is a total piece of shit.
Way to go Faiqa!
I am Faiqa, hear me ROOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAR.
Homeboy up there better watch himself!
While reading it, I was thinking the same thing about how he found your post. Lovely.
I’ll be honest,
I was half tempted to claim that nasty post as my own with a “gotcha!”, but I quickly decided I disliked the idea of it being associated with me too much.
And I take credit all sorts of stupid shit! Did you see the video of “the world’s drunkest guy” that stumbled through the gas station? That was me!
There’s an amazing Brazillian movie called Gaigin about Japanese Immigrants to Brazil. Not 100% relevant since… in their case they were leaving a difficult situation, either way, their memories were nothing but positive and nostalgic. Their kids would only respond to them in Portuguese, which is what happens in any situation. The kids, Brazillians.
On India… my sister followed her love there and has got it made. My mom was there for 3 months for the birth of my nephew, Not only is there someone to help with everything, there is an amazing sense of community and belonging that I hope our kids will someday experience. Some of the finest medical care is available at amazing prices. I didn’t read it until half way into this post… but the guy who posted the crap above is a total prick. There are actually many people who repatriate to India for the lifestyle. United States is a great country, but its not perfect. Most importantly, I want to brag about my new set of Tabla Drums, totally off topic, but when my parents came back from India, I got some really awesome drums.
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This was beautiful – and so amazing to hear the words from you. I cried. Thank you for sharing your heart.
I read this post last year, back when it was originally posted, and read it again today. Made me cry both times. I know these choices are around the corner for me and my family, and the weight of them is certainly not light. You both are very lucky and I am grateful for your poignant take on the situation!
Tariq is my hero. Like Mr T used to be.
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Beautiful.