J.C.'S STRIDE

Newcomers’ toil, tears pave way to love of freedom and country

By Joyce Coronel | July 2, 2009 | The Catholic Sun

Hanging in the hallway of our family’s home is a picture of my paternal great-great-grandparents and their children soon after they left Italy and arrived in America.

I don’t have pictures of my maternal great-great grandparents from Ireland, but my mother has told me often of their great faith and resilience in the face of discrimination and poverty.

Both sides of the family rose from humble beginnings and have enjoyed the blessings of freedom and opportunity in the United States. Working as miners and simple laborers, their toil and tears paved the way for their descendents to prosper and thrive.

I’d like to say my love of country springs entirely from an appreciation of what my ancestors sacrificed to make it in this country. Mostly, it does. But being married to an immigrant has taught me a thing or two about what it means to be an American.

My husband grew up in Venezuela and came to this country in 1983. Pipo didn’t speak a word of English and had only some tuition money, a few meager belongings and his vibrant Catholic faith when he arrived in Phoenix.

His grandparents began their life together in a makeshift hut beneath a mango tree. Abuela gave birth to 13 children, one of whom she delivered all by herself since her husband was out working the fields.

Pipo’s parents have stark recollections of famine in their homeland where they were reduced to eating the bark off trees in order to survive. It was an act of faith when my father-in-law cashed in his pension to send his son to the United States to learn English and finish his education.

An immigrant who has experienced hardship and oppression sees the United States a little differently than the average Joe.

In many countries around the world, no matter how hard you work, you’ll never get ahead. If you dare to criticize the government, you will be fired from your job, lose your home, thrown in prison or shot. This is true in Venezuela today, even though you’ll never hear that on CNN.

An Iranian protester said it bluntly following the elections there: “We want the freedom you Americans have.” Sadly, these are freedoms many native-born Americans take for granted.

Reality check

You would be hard-pressed to find anyone more patriotic than my husband, who knows all too well that the United States is truly a beacon of freedom and hope.

People like him seldom go around apologizing for the United States or disdaining American values. They love this country — its freedom, its optimism and its spiritual heritage, forged in the ethnic melting pot of generations of immigrants.

They are proud bearers of the Stars and Stripes, much like my ancestors who came to this country in search of a better life and who fought and died to protect it.

They can make the rest of us look like spoiled children, complaining that we didn’t get a pony for our birthday. If each of us could only experience the reality of life in countries in which dictators rule for decades and children die of starvation, we might just appreciate our freedom more.

I think a turning point came for my husband in 1992 when we took a trip to Venezuela. While crossing the desert at night with our young family, a brigade of machine-gun toting soldiers stopped our car and rifled through our luggage. I cringed as my husband argued with them; he had tasted the freedom of the United States and this wasn’t it. In 1993, he took his oath of U.S. citizenship.

In the midst of all the rancorous debate over immigration policy, it behooves us to consider what newcomers can teach us about gratitude and patriotism. Nations have the right to defend their borders, to be sure. But people who are ready to work to help build up our country offer us a perspective we might otherwise overlook. That’s a picture to keep in mind as we celebrate the Fourth of July.

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Joyce Coronel is a regular contributor to The Catholic Sun. Send comments to letters@catholicsun.org.