Immigrants (post from 2017)

 THIS POST WAS ORIGINALLY IN MY ORIGINAL BLOG AND IS FROM 2017 WHILE I WAS LIVING IN CHINA

Once upon a time, I met a retired chemistry prof.  Call Him Dr.S.  He was in his mid to late sixties at the time, with mischievous blue eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses and a smile that was impossible not to return.  He was a regular customer of mine at not one, but two of the food service establishments I worked at in my late 20's and early 30's.  Dr. S had an unmistakable Eastern European accent.  He drank decaf coffee and loved cinnamon rolls.  He also loved Asian food, the symphony, and flirting with women.  He was one of my mother's customers at the Credit Union where she worked.  For some reason I have never figured out, he took a shine to me.  And I loved him right back.  Like an extra grandfather, or uncle, the ornery one that liked to cause problems and get his wife to roll her eyes at him.

One day, I was sitting in a cafe that everyone I knew frequented, he came in and sat down beside me.  There were many days like this, as our friendship deepened, He began to entrust me with the stories of his life.  When he was in his early teens, The Nazis invaded the Soviet Socialist Republic of Belarus.  Dr. S was a blond-haired, blue-eyed Jew and he headed for the hills and joined the partisans.  He told me of atrocities that he had witnessed.  I'll not recount them here.  He spoke of people who died to keep him safe.  After the war, he fled the USSR to come to America.  He worked 40 hour weeks at a pickle packing plant to support his mother and to go to school.  He supported his mom until she died.But not as a pickle packer.  He got his education.  and he became a professor of chemistry.  He was one tough teacher, but his students loved and respected him.  Dr. S was loved and respected throughout my hometown.  After the breakup of the Soviet Union, Belarus tried to find Dr S and the men he fought with.  They wanted to give him a medal.  He went to Belarus and got his medal.

He died several years ago.  I miss him greatly. He was a man of great wit and deep conviction.  He was an immigrant.  He made valuable and important contributions to my community and to the lives of his students.

He was an immigrant.  He made valuable and important contributions to my community and to the lives of his students.

Before you get the wrong idea about my beliefs, know this: Dr. S. came to the US legally and was a US citizen.

I do not have a problem with immigrants. I do have a problem with people who immigrate illegally.  I know that there are ridiculous numbers of people who are in major problems because of war, famine, drought, etc, who just want to find a home that they can flourish in.  Where their children can go to school and have a chance at a better life.  I get that, and I don't have any solutions.

I guess I am really annoyed at the way immigrants, and even illegal immigrants are getting painted with the same brush.  Having lived as an expat gives me a different perspective.  I don't like when people dismiss me or try to take advantage of me as a "stupid laowai" or a "rich American" (because all Americans are rich, if you didn't already know). I am not just a foreigner; I am me, and I would like to be treated with the dignity and respect that any unique individual deserves.  Immigrants are no less children of God than Native-borns.

Do immigrants and refugees need to be vetted?  Yes.  But if someone has a visa to come to the US, or are a US citizen, they should not be turned back at the border.  We have given our permission, it should be a done deal.  The hoops that people have to jump through to get and American Visa are insane, many people have to go through a very long, drawn-out, and expensive process to even get to the visa interview. At that point, they can still be refused.Once they have permission, they should be allowed in.

Every American, except the First Nations, is a descendant of immigrants.  Remember that.  What would have happened to you if your ancestors had been denied?

Dr. S was an Immigrant. Born on foreign soil.  He made a positive impact.  Dr G's parents were immigrants.  He made a HUGE impact. One that affects you in ways you don't even understand. My friend, J, is an Immigrant.  My friend, L, is the child of Immigrants, My friend M, the child of Immigrants. I have had the fantastic privilege and pleasure of having these people in my circles.  Brilliant men and women who have challenged me to do and be more than I thought I could.

As Lin-Manuel Miranda says in "Hamiton"   'Immigrants get the job done'.  So do their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren,

God Bless.