I Wouldn’t Say Proud.

I wouldn’t say proud. I’d say grateful. I am grateful to be an American. With all that is being said by the the current administration and people with fascist ideals, I am grateful for laws, so that I am still able to live my life. I don’t think I can say that I am proud of my country right now and it makes me sad and disappointed. When I was young, it didn’t feel important to claim an American identity as much as it does today. I lived in such a diverse community. We lived as Americans without having to identify as one.

We didn’t have to prove ourselves.

Because we were so different from one another, we were simply allowed to be who we were. Heritage was celebrated. Cultures were practiced. And the backdrop of our freedom to express ourselves was our nationality, allowing us to do so.

If I expressively claimed being American in my household or amongst my community, it felt like I was displacing my heritage and that I wanted to be white. American equaled white when I was younger so to say I was American was to say that I wanted to be white. But today, as representation is more reflective of our country’s makeup, I feel American and my kids identify as American, no question, and with no concern of being looked upon as being ashamed of our ancestry.

As a mother, I fear and want to protect my children from so many things.

But, I mostly want to protect them from adopting a character of selfishness. The American Dream teaches everyone raised here and who immigrates here, that you can become a self-made millionaire. That the opportunity for success is there if you want it and work hard enough to get it. That it is a dream within anyone’s reach to become fulfilled. But I don’t want my children to think, well I made my money. I don’t have to help anyone else because I achieved this on my own. I don’t want them to forget where they came from or lose that sense of community. If someone is less fortunate, I hope that I am teaching them that they have an obligation to help.

My parent’s biggest concern for me was to obtain a high school diploma. My mom’s highest level of education was 5th grade. You see where the dream stops for them? They could have wanted more.

Their measure of success was short-sighted because they were not shown any different.

I grew up knowing that for some, having a home, being able to put food on the table was a big deal. Limitations can be generational, and I’m thankful that I see The American Dream living in my children.

The most impactful meaning of American freedom for me, is our freedom of speech and our freedom to obtain an education. My children can freely speak without repercussions from the government. They can go to school, and open any book that they want to, having limitless access to learn and be able to experience a book as art and not just as information.

As a woman, you can speak up and have back-up from available resources, you can leave and protect yourself from dangerous, abusive relationships.

This country can make it easier for a woman to walk away.

Yes, there are areas of improvement. But that we are able to know it’s a real option, and have hope to change and improve it, is what separates us from third world countries.

I am grateful to be American. I don’t want the dream to be short-sighted.

A proud American should be able to see more; and freely feel that they can be more.

You Raise. We Rise.

Interviewed on 1.18.18