What Makes an American Anyway?
Last weekend we had our first barbecue. That’s right, our first barbeque EVER. We’ve been to barbecues before, but we’ve never owned our own grill or barbecued for other people.
Before anyone arrived Vijay read up on barbecuing. Mainly, how to start the thing and how to cook the meat. I had a little ping of American pride which made me immediately ponder a bigger question. What qualities make a person uniquely American anyway and what makes us so different form everyone else?
As he turned on the grill and put on a chef hat, I thought of the Canadian comedian Russell Peters. In one of his stand up routines, his father, who immigrated from India, purchased a barbecue and invited the neighbors over in an attempt to “become a Canadian”.
Of course, I know a singular behavior does not make a citizen, but certain behaviors are iconically American. So, aside from the naturalization certificate he received last year after thirteen years of visas, forms, interviews, fees and patience, what qualities make Vijay American?
At the moment, the national stage seems to be filled with people defining what makes us American and who should be allowed to become one. You don’t have to look very hard to find people encouraging registries of non-Christians, calling for walls, and the apparent need to identify us vs. them. Who should be here and who shouldn’t.
So, what makes a good citizen? What is it we are looking for?
I guess that depends on who you ask.
My husband had never barbecued, he doesn’t watch sports, he isn’t teeming with testosterone and he isn’t a fan of sweets. But I can tell you what he is. He is humble, generous and kind. He believes in the rule of law, equality for all, and is respectful of others. He contributes to society in a very meaningful way. He believes in doing the right thing, even if that means he has to make sacrifices himself. He loves this country.
I continue to watch him barbecue, still surprised we’ve never done this before, thinking how overwhelmingly American this activity feels. Like apple pie and baseball American.
I also think of all the wonderful things he has given the United States. Things that make our community, our country, a better place: a patient heart, a listening ear, a compassionate bedside manner. He helps the weakest and neediest of our population. People who are often forgotten by their friends, their family and definitely by society. The mentally ill of our country have everyday sad stories, everyday challenges, and everyday heartache, with very little support.
Our kids are still so young; they don’t yet understand exactly what Vijay does for a living. We tell them, Daddy goes to work to help people have a better day. We tell them, the people Daddy helps have very hard, sometimes very sad days. Daddy tries to help his patients get jobs and stay sober. He helps them leave abusive situations. He prescribes medication that will hopefully help. He stands next to veterans traumatized by war as well as refugees navigating a new land, because war leaves scars on both sides of a fight. And he always tries to find some sort of silver lining.
If that isn’t American, if that isn’t life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness… I don’t know what is.
There is value in allowing people to come here. People who weren’t lucky enough to be born on our soil. People that build our country and make us all stronger with their stories, their dreams, and their grit.
A person doesn’t risk everything, give up everything, say good-bye to everyone they love for no reason. Vijay sparks my American dream. He doesn’t tell me I take things for granted or remind me of the things I’ve been given so freely – just because I’m an American. But by watching him, his journey, I am reminded the American dream is something to work for. It’s not just for those who are trying to obtain it from afar.
I know it isn’t this simple. I know the conversation is complicated. But isn’t there a better way? A more civil way? One that doesn’t spur hate crimes and fear. A way that doesn’t create more discrimination and intolerance. Aren’t we able to have meaningful conversations that don’t create bullies and feed resentment for the enormous gift of citizenship, a gift we only have because most of us were lucky enough to be born here.
Although it may have taken me and my immigrant fifteen years to have our first barbecue, we’ll be having a lot more from now on. Friends and neighbors agree, he nailed it.
Look out America. Next thing you know he’ll be watching football.
Elizabeth- the love you have for your husband shines through in this writing. You are so proud of him! Thank you for sharing the bar-be-que story–and things for us to think about in considering what makes one an American.
Yes, I am proud of his journey. I hope this gives a little bit of insight…the experience of immigration from our perspective.
Beautifully written and thought-provoking. I am a first generation immigrant and I feel like you spoke for me. Thank you.
Thank you so much Elida! I am hopeful that by sharing our stories, I can contribute to the dialogue taking place around the country and possibly touch the hearts of people who have not yet had the experience of knowing or loving someone who has moved here to make America an even stronger country. Thank you for your comment.