A nation of immigrants

JFK wrote an article with our title but this is not about the book posthumously published after his assassination. It is about the nation we call the U.S. of A and how its story stands in contrast to its immigration history.

The peopling of the New World by Europeans was a muzzling of native folks. Migration was not the issue naturalization was, dealt with through residency rules in 1795, 1798, and 1802. In 1868, we protected the citizenship of sovereign born children, interpreted in 1898 as applicable “regardless of parents’ citizenship” though it favored European roots. We allowed Afro-Americans to be naturalized in 1872 defied by Jim Crow.

The 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act confirmed the “Yellow Peril” xenophobia changing the focus from U.S. naturalization to immigration; we barred additional Chinese to cast their shadows on U.S. soil. The Act was repealed only in 1943. Literacy was added in the 1917 qualifications.

In 1923, Indo-Aryans were declassified as whites; we limited in 1924 eastern European and southern Mediterranean immigrants (read, Jewish and Italian), and the quota system was introduced. Distinction by race was eliminated in 1952 but implementation favored Brits, Irish, Slav and German. 1965 abolished the quota system of national origin and ushered family preferences resulting in “chain immigration” where kin sponsored kin. Pinoys led the horde.

In 1970, married to a U.S. citizen, I traveled from the East Coast to Manila on a student visa. I returned through Seattle and was subjected to a thorough body check that took longer to peer through nooks and crannies than usual. I was told to secure a green card.

I was in Brownsville, Texas in 1978 and invited colleagues to lunch in Mexico. Already a seven-year green card holder, it took me four hours to cross back. A three-piece-suited Pinoy going through Matamoros was a known modus operandi of illegal crossing.

I entered Honolulu with a green card in 1982; was held back while my white wife and daughters waited hours outside. For a Pilipino to not apply for citizenship more than a decade after he had a green card was suspect. I naturalized in 1984.

A revamp of the whole immigration system in the 90s was intended to be credible policy measured by people who needed to get in to get in, people who were not needed kept out, and people who were judged deportable banished. 1996 enacted harsh policies.

Sept. 11, 2001, shocked the system and began a curb on immigration. It is in this context that BHO’s executive order to delay deportation of illegals, particularly from NAFTA south, must be understood. He is stemming a climate of fearful frenzy and injects rationality on a system that awaits a thorough overhaul.

Yes, we are a nation of immigrants, though more of a melting pot with a creamy white top than a mosaic of diverse cultures. When we sent BHO to the White House, coloration of being stuck its ugly head. Historically, immigration was not that friendly to begin with, deselecting non-Europeans from crossing over. In our time, it does not bode well to be of color. The racial card is on the table again.

November Turkey Day was a Puritan celebration of the migration to the New World. I commented on a collegial listserv that Garth Barth nixed his TV appearance in light of the riots in Ferguson MO. A Caucasian friend responded: “I’m sorry to disagree, but this kid was bad news and brought about his own demise.” Rather blunt but truthful of her kneejerk response.

I have had five Michael Browns lean their bulk to my face, two of them Afro-Americans. I might have been pissed off as a consequence but their action was their choice and to respond in kind would have made their action mine, too. I need no defense of power status, unlike Ferguson’s Darren Wilson who might have considered his official badge dishonored by a disrespectful teen and decided to use his firearm.

I bid America adieu this summer after almost 50 years of dipping my toes on its Gulf, Atlantic, great Lakes and Pacific shores. I was glad to see BHO and Raul Castro open diplomatic relations across the Gulf. On the other hand, NYC’s finest are insolent re the Mayor and Police Commissioner at a Latino and Oriental colleague’s funeral, not baffling of mostly whitey in uniform, my East Coast classmate claims!

I once took three hours to get out of London’s Heathrow for fish and chips at Piccadilly on a half-day transit while heading to Africa from Chicago. That year debated whether maid in the Philippines qualified Filipina = nanny in OED. The same Pinoy passport that made English immigration’s pause got automatic 45-days in Hispanic America, so Ravel’s Bolero con SMU Texas Latinos was more memorable than Gringos no touch line dancing that had us tolerated rather than engaged.

I travel with the American blue book across borders. Now resident of Hawaii where folks are born beautifully brown, I see a handsome person of color in the mirror, proud in a nation of colorful immigrants.