Naturalization Day - 4/29/16
The Sandra Day O’ Connor courtroom’s ceiling was so high and its entrance floor so enormous and vacant that any noise seemed to be absorbed by its glass walls. It was so quiet, sounds bounced back at you as distant whispers and echoes. I made my way, quietly, to the stairs and up the second floor just in time. A man was drawing everyone’s attention, notifying us that we would be let in momentarily and to please abide by their rule which was pretty much to not allow kiddos onto the balcony. A little while after, a diverse mass of people were bottle-necking into the courtroom’s double doors. I made my way to the balcony so I could get a bird’s eye view.
It just so happens, that both of my neighbors were Latinos. My neighbor to the left was at first preoccupied making sure the two little girls that were with her were not spotted by the courtroom officials that kept saying no kiddos on the balcony. She told me she was the youngest of her siblings and the only one that was a citizen. Today she was here for her brother, they were originally from Guadalajara. She pointed him out to me, he noticed and looked confused by the unwarranted attention, and she giggled. She soon ran off because of the balcony patrol. My other neighbor was a small, old man that kept taking a lot of pictures. Everyone knew too because his phone would make a loud snapping camera sound every time he took one. He was very talkative and opened up to me easily. He shared with me that his family was originally from Guanajuato and that he was here for his grandson who was the only one of his grand-kids that was not a citizen. I asked him when it would be his turn at citizenship. He shrugged and waved it off, said he was good as he was. He lived in Guanajuato and liked it there.
My attention was drawn to the court room floor when the judge said that some of the newly naturalized citizens would be sharing their experiences. I wondered who the brave souls would be. I will be changing their names, just in case. The first speaker was Alma, she was from Morocco. She came as a single woman but now has a daughter. She stated she would work hard to realize her dreams. Next up was Ezequiel. He had served for the US armed forces, four years as a marine and six years in the navy. He described his frustrations, his application was denied twice. Still, he kept at it and did not give up. He stood proudly and sternly but he kept saying when I am a citizen my opportunities will be increased and there will be no stopping me from getting to the top. The man conducting the naturalization ceremony politely stepped in and said to him “No, you are already a citizen”. It was a very moving moment that I will not soon forget. Third, there was Luna, from Ghana, who had her own personal cheering squad. They were very excited family members, big happy smiles. Next, there was Israel from East Africa. He was a refugee. He was now pursuing a Bachelor’s degree. Lastly, the man who directed the ceremony shared his migrant story. He informed us that he took his oath in 1985 and that he was in military uniform. His journey began in 1981 on a base in the Philippines when he enlisted in the US armed forces.
Of these migrants, seven decided to have their names changed. I could only wonder at their reasons. Quite a few things surprised me. To begin, the group was so diverse. White people were talking Spanish, there were so many accents, and it was simply this wonderful cacophony of humanity brought together by the sole purpose of wishing to become a United States citizen. Another thing that I found myself thinking about was when everyone stood up and recited the pledge of allegiance. I recalled getting up with a sigh in elementary school age years at having to recite the pledge in the mornings. The feeling I experienced in this moment was altogether the opposite. I felt that I was among the lucky, I felt blessed and privileged and oh so proud to be a United States Citizen. I was grateful for my parents’ decisions that led to them migrating from their homelands to the US.