Not too long ago an nine year-old boy crossed the United States border with his family in flight from an abusive patriarch and oppressive country. They traveled with green cards but knew they would illegally stay in the Land of Opportunity when the cards expired 72 hours later. In the crevices of their mind and the veins in their hearts, they knew Life would be different in the Estados Unidos. With nothing more than hope and love, a family of five lived on one income from a single mother working in a sweatshop in downtown LA.
Sun rise. Sun set. Sun rise. Sun set. Like in Fiddler on the Roof, swiftly passed the years and the eight year-old boy decided to fight for a country which gave him the right to be who he wanted to be: a legal citizen. Viet Nam took the lives of many Americans, but it gave my father back his. He returned to the United States of America as a legal citizen and flaunts this privilege in the simplicity of hanging a red, white, and blue flag on his porch everyday and pushing out his chest with pride everything we pass Camp Pendelton or anything USMC. He still proffers the Jarhead mantra, No blood, no pain, and has a collection of Marine Corps paraphernalia in his office at work. I make fun of my father on occasion for his obsession with Hoooorhaaah‘ing every Marine that passes him and believing he can still run a mile in six minutes flat.
But in all antics and sentimentalism that I’m expecting to see tomorrow, I know that my father will be sincerely and aunthentically moved to tears when our national anthem is played. Why? Well, because he is a citizen by choice, not by right. Through fighting for the public’s right to speak against American officials, boycott the war, or lambast American foreign policy, he proudly stood on foreign soil fighting for a country he CHOSE to be a part of. Now I am a grateful recipient of his sacrifice. Because of him and millions of others, I am free to live in this country I call home, proud to say I’m American, and humbled that I have the privilege of waving my red, white, and blue flag tomorrow while celebrating the birth of my country.
I love your father he is my spiritual father.. Love this country which I also chose to be part of… Great post Bianca.. You amazed me with your post… Have a happy Dia de la Independencia and God Bless America (North, South and Central) America de Beauty
That was very touching. Sometimes those who were born and raised in America forget how lucky they are to be living in the land of the free. America has it’s flaws but we have so much good that outweighs all the bad. I thank God for where I am and who I am proud to be; an American.
love this post! i am so proud!
You’d all hate me today. All day long I’ve been singing “Proud to be an American” in the best southern twang I can fake!
My sister is about to throw a brick at my head.
I’ve never heard it said better.
I’m proud to be counted with all those who call los Estados Unidos home and privileged to add my voice in thanks for those who made and still make that possible.
I wouldn’t hate you for singing that song. Howard Zinn would hate you, but I wouldn’t. I LOVE that Song!
Say Hi to Kobe for me and tell Alejandro I said SEMPER FI and Thank You!
Amen!
It’s people like your father and my father that make this country so great!
I love this post.
I love Pancho.
I love America.
I love you.
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