On the last eve of this 4th of July weekend, there sits a lump in my throat as the pop of fireworks reverberate around our neighbourhood. God Bless America is blasting on TV, the screen splattered in sprinkles of red and blue as Washington DC and NYC ring in this Independence Day. I am overcome with gratitude and awe.
You see, I’m in the final stages of becoming an official American Citizen. Just a few weeks late of the nation’s 235th birthday and on the doorstep of the celebration of my own 29 years, I will be swearing my oath of allegiance to this incredible country.
I am Philippine by birth, and Canadian in upbringing. We came to Canada as immigrants when I was 5 years old. Opportunity, warmer skies and the American Dream brought our family south.
Blessed by the love of relatives left behind, my parents arrived on this continent with nothing more than a few thousand dollars, sheer determination and an unwavering innocent hope for a better life. Like millions of others who came before us seeking work and equal opportunity, our dreams of stability and prosperity were realized. America (and Canada) did not care where we came from or the colour of our skin. It did not care what brand of English we spoke – broken or accented. It did not care what food we ate, how we dressed or what God we chose to love.
While studying America’s history in preparation for my citizenship interview, I was overcome with admiration and amazement. The establishment of democracy, the bill of rights, the systems of checks and balances in government; all of it is simply remarkable. The overwhelming show of American pride that once perplexed me as a Canadian means so much more to me now as I come to terms with what it means to be a citizen of this country.
I have a few more weeks to go before it all becomes official. Maybe then I’ll have the wisdom, clarity and presence of mind to express my feelings in more detail. Today, I am content with not having the words. Today, I am just very grateful to be here.
