In 1912 my grandfather came across the border and entered this country. He knew, maybe, two words of English..."Thankyou", and "Please". However, in the family circle, even that is in debate. One side says he didn't know a lick of English, the other side disagrees. One thing is certain. He went to school and learned the language. Fluently. And this fluency allowed him to join the USArmy. He proudly served. He so desired citizenship to this country that even the First World War didn't dissuade him. It did not bother him that others would talk behind his back, call him names, disparage him because of where he came from. Loudly disparage his country of origin. His skin, though darker, would not allow him to hate. These things, simply, did not bother him. He came with dreams. And he knew that crossing the border of the USA would be 'the' decision that would afford him the possibilities. He was 'that' guy that would say "All things are possible."
So he came across...he presented his papers. Shortly afterwards, I think it was a week, he was joined by other family members that had come across the border. But it wasn't right away. And he knew that there would be a wait. But he waited. Although he couldn't understand a word being said to him and about him, he merely smiled and did as he was directed. He didn't make demands in his native language. He didn't make demands for interpreters. He didn't storm with an "I have a right" attitude. There is no doubt that, perhaps, my great-great grandmother, his mother, knew enough of English to make decisions. But she didn't rant and rave either. So can you imagine the mind of a fourteen year old, in a foreign land? I'm sure he was scared. And being scared makes one put up the air of arrogance. Of defiance. Not him. He was a young man of confidence when he came here and he had that same confidence in the old man I remember. But I also knew, from talking to him many times before he passed, that "this" was the place. Here "it" would happen.
Our family, a few already here, instilled in him the need to learn the English language. "This is your home now", was repeated often but he didn't need to hear it more than once. As soon as he could go to work - he went to work. When the US economy crashed in the twenties, he found himself at the back of the line when it came to getting work. His name and color, slightly, were different. But he prevailed. He was one of the hardest working men I've ever known. And worked damn near to the day he died. But when he came across the border - he knew work would be required. And for the most meager of wages.
By the way, his slightly dark skin was Mediterranean stock. Italy having been a 'melting pot' for northern Africa, southern Europe, and the Middle East long before the US was even a country.
His 'border' was Ellis Island. A place where millions of immigrants to this country, with papers and without papers, crossed the border. My grandfather had papers. His family made sure he had papers. But it didn't matter to him that he was called a 'WOP', (with out papers). As I said, he had his papers and the name didn't hurt. His character was simply not that way. In his eye, he was about to begin the single most exciting adventure of his life.
I can only recall seeing one thing that he kept, that reminded him of Italy. It was a tiny, toothpick flag, positioned in a shot-glass alongside a US flag, sitting atop the black and white TV set in my grandmothers' kitchen. And I know that he met with other "Eye-talians" at least once a week. It was called the IAPA. An Italian-American Association. But they didn't discuss ways to circumvent the Constitution. They didn't discuss ways to make the Italian population of the US the single most deserving group. They didn't conspire to take the Eastern Seaboard of America away from the US simply because Christopher Columbus, an Italian, discovered the way to the new world. They didn't drum up falsehoods against the community they lived in. They mostly sat around and drank their Chianti and smoked those awful guinea-stinker cigars. Not one of them would ever run down the street, whooping, with an Italian flag. My grandfathers' flag would forever be the 'Stars and Stripes'. The Red, White and Blue. To wave anything else, on any day, would be an affront to his 'new' home.
I can say 'guinea'. I am one. My character won't allow names to hurt. My father and my grandfather taught me to laugh at myself as often as I could. God, I am so lucky for having them in my life.
Back to my grandfather...
Yeah, they came here to make a better life for themselves. But, as my grandfather would remind me, his new and better life would never, ever, be at the expense of the lives of those around him. I guess, in a way, he would not impose upon their pursuits of Life, Liberty, and Happiness. He would not ever, accept a handout. But he would always give you a hand. He would never expect people living on the same street as he to learn his native Italian. And he would never, ever, accept other Italians besmirching his 'new' home.
Yes, I know they reminisced of the 'old' country. But being in their 'new' country was not a problem to them. And they weren't out to change any social structure, or any economics or anything else to make their 'new' home like their old home. You see, they were happy to be here. It wasn't he and other Italians that gave rise to the name "Little Italy". But they lived with it. And though it may have bothered him a little bit, it was inconsequential. There were things here that you couldn't find there. You could say things here, you could buy things here, you could go places, you could educate yourself, you could....you could do so many things here that you couldn't do there. And that was his fathers' dream for him. My great-great grandfather.
I am glad that he too, presented his papers, with a smile, and graciously accepted the invitation to become a citizen of this country. The easiest border for my great-great grandfather and my grandfather to cross was that border in their minds, in their 'self'.
The border that said..."You're an American now. Welcome."
