Coming to America

It was June, 1987.  Mom had returned home to Jamaica having left us 14 months earlier to check out a job opportunity in the States.  She had packed a small suitcase.  This was supposed to be a reconnaissance mission.  We didn’t know at the time that the journey would take her to Kenedy, Texas, where she would be offered a job on the spot and would be required to stay while the immigration paperwork was sorted out.  She missed my 16th birthday.  But she was home now.  And in 2 weeks we would be joining her on the plane back the States.  I was so excited.  I had never been on a plane before.  All I knew about life in America was what I saw on TV.   As it turned out, the Cosby Show, Family Ties, Different Strokes, and the Brady Brunch didn’t quite prepare me for real life in America.  But in many ways, I could not even have dreamed of the possibilities and opportunities that coming to the States would open up for us.  For the first time in my life I ate a hamburger, took a hot shower, went to the movies, shopped in the mall.  Over the years I got an education, pursued meaningful work, bought a house, raised a family.

Like most immigrants, I have a deep sense of gratitude for the opportunity to be in this great nation.  I love America.  My children, first generation Americans, chose to serve in the military.  They followed in the footsteps of their father, also an immigrant, so chose to serve in the military.  I know firsthand the sacrifices of immigrant families and I know firsthand the sacrifices of military families. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything else.  We are truly blessed beyond measure.  God bless America.