remember being 5 years old, when I first saw her.
I was terrified, when I looked up and saw this huge woman holding a large club in her right hand. Clinging to my mother's skirt, my sister joined us on the upper deck and asked, "Are we here mamma?"
Once off the boat, a little old lady came up to my mother and cried, "America!" "We are finally in America now," as she kissed the ground.
Mother packed one wooden brown trunk. She sat us down on this trunk, at the immigration processing station on Ellis Island, and dared us not to move an inch. Finally, boarding a train, we arrived at our destination, surrounded by welcoming relatives.
I later learned that the Statue of Liberty's torch lit the way to freedom for all those who sought refuge, freedom and opportunity. It was not a club that threatened anyone, but was a welcome to a new land.
Mother worked in a sweat shop for 37 years. She sewed men's suits and topcoats thus earning a decent living. We lived frugally. We understood the importance of economizing to make ends meet, but most of all we learned the English language!
I once read an article, where our President wanted to secure borders to those seeking illegal labor in our country.
They gained entry, often coming with nothing on theirs backs, bringing families and children on make-shift boats. When employment went array, they were often seen marching in the streets, holding up their signs, demanding certain rights of entitlement.
What was wrong with this picture?
These immigrants never stood in a long line at a processing station and never saw the Statue of Liberty, as I remembered it. Deportation would always be a threat in their futures.
Why didn't these people enter America like my mother chose to enter it?
The most threatening word in our household was "deportation." Mother often reminded us that if we did something real bad, we could face being deported. After getting caught shoplifting, I learned the value of earning money, the hard way. As mother tucked me into bed, and wiped my tears away, she reassured me by saying, "we won't be deported today."
I remember reporting to the post office every year. We had to register as being "DP's," (displaced persons). I hated that label when kids called me that at school.
Then it finally happened.
I was asked to raise my hand as I recited the Pledge of Legions to the United States of America. No need of signs and protests. I had all the rights I needed in court that day. I could not wait to exercise my right to vote!
My mother made great sacrifices during the Golden Gate of Opportunity in the 50's. Despite waiting an entire year in Europe for relatives to process legal papers, we landed in New York in 1952.
I will always remember that old woman getting off the boat and kissing the ground, but I will always remember mother gaining entry the right way!
I was terrified, when I looked up and saw this huge woman holding a large club in her right hand. Clinging to my mother's skirt, my sister joined us on the upper deck and asked, "Are we here mamma?"
Once off the boat, a little old lady came up to my mother and cried, "America!" "We are finally in America now," as she kissed the ground.
Mother packed one wooden brown trunk. She sat us down on this trunk, at the immigration processing station on Ellis Island, and dared us not to move an inch. Finally, boarding a train, we arrived at our destination, surrounded by welcoming relatives.
I later learned that the Statue of Liberty's torch lit the way to freedom for all those who sought refuge, freedom and opportunity. It was not a club that threatened anyone, but was a welcome to a new land.
Mother worked in a sweat shop for 37 years. She sewed men's suits and topcoats thus earning a decent living. We lived frugally. We understood the importance of economizing to make ends meet, but most of all we learned the English language!
I once read an article, where our President wanted to secure borders to those seeking illegal labor in our country.
They gained entry, often coming with nothing on theirs backs, bringing families and children on make-shift boats. When employment went array, they were often seen marching in the streets, holding up their signs, demanding certain rights of entitlement.
What was wrong with this picture?
These immigrants never stood in a long line at a processing station and never saw the Statue of Liberty, as I remembered it. Deportation would always be a threat in their futures.
Why didn't these people enter America like my mother chose to enter it?
The most threatening word in our household was "deportation." Mother often reminded us that if we did something real bad, we could face being deported. After getting caught shoplifting, I learned the value of earning money, the hard way. As mother tucked me into bed, and wiped my tears away, she reassured me by saying, "we won't be deported today."
I remember reporting to the post office every year. We had to register as being "DP's," (displaced persons). I hated that label when kids called me that at school.
Then it finally happened.
I was asked to raise my hand as I recited the Pledge of Legions to the United States of America. No need of signs and protests. I had all the rights I needed in court that day. I could not wait to exercise my right to vote!
My mother made great sacrifices during the Golden Gate of Opportunity in the 50's. Despite waiting an entire year in Europe for relatives to process legal papers, we landed in New York in 1952.
I will always remember that old woman getting off the boat and kissing the ground, but I will always remember mother gaining entry the right way!
Comments