BECOMING AMERICAN

When the Immigration officer told me after our interview yesterday that I had passed and she was recommending me for naturalization, I felt tears welling up in my eyes and it surprised the hell out of me. After all, I could have done this much sooner but waited instead. That, too, is something I can't quite explain still.

I've been in the United States for almost 24 years; for a third of that time I was really neither here nor there. I was out of status, to put it politely. So while I lived here as an American -- paid my taxes, followed all the rules, worked my ass off but also had the time of my life -- deep inside I knew I really shouldn't have been here still. But I couldn't (wouldn't) leave either because it would have meant not being able to come back, and I knew if I stuck it out I'd have more options in the end.

Although originally my father was the one who really wanted me to study here -- just as he, my mother, and my older sisters had done at my age -- ultimately coming here was my choice to make. The consequences, however, were not mine to bear alone. I arrived here just as my father's business slowed down and money was tight. I'd always expected he would pay for my tuition and expenses, especially since unlike my sisters I was not a US citizen and wouldn't be allowed to work while attending school as they had done.Well, at least not in theory.

So my mother came over and petitioned for me. At first we thought, as we were advised, that the process would take about five years. It took 10 instead. Mom left a comfortable life back home, one where she was always the boss and gave directions, and dumbed down her resume so she could work as a secretary, where she took them instead. Her bosses didn't know about her Master's and Doctorate degrees and although they were impressed that she was one of the few people who still knew how to write in shorthand, they had no idea that she had actually met the guy who wrote the definitive texts on the subject. Or that she had written a couple of textbooks, too.

Later on, mom actually took additional teaching jobs when dad could no longer send money over. And we lived in a tiny shoebox apartment on the wrong side of town, surrounded by the freeway entrance, a rundown hotel, and an apartment inhabited by gangbangers. On cold nights we'd find a bum huddled inside the one rickety elevator inside the building. When I look back I realize that we didn't even sleep on a proper bed with a spring mattress for many years.

We moved around a bit as our circumstances became better. But not fast enough. In our next apartment we woke up to hear a man banging on our window as he was being stabbed repeatedly by his dealer. There was blood all over the next morning, after the cops had come and gone. In the next one it wasn't unusual to find that our car had gotten broken into -- again and again. Eventually mom and I went our separate ways and she finally went back home, after about seven years, when she saw that I had found a way to be on my own and (barely) able to make a living here.

Just as mom had done, I worked multiple jobs and lived in places that scared me at night. Sometimes I ran out of money and had to rely on the kindness of friends. I couldn't pursue the career I really wanted because of legal impediments and so took a detour that has since led me here. I even seriously considered getting married strictly for the papers when I became impatient, even desperate. I know there are decisions I've made in my life because of the limited choices available to me at the time. The irony, I suppose, is that I made them because I wanted to have more choices in the long run. Which I now have.

My mom and I, we made sacrifices so that I could be here (although mom, I believe, gave up so much more). The people around us, who loved us and whom we loved in return, also did the same. And despite all of that, despite what all of us each gave up, I had to remain invisible here for years as I waited for my papers to be processed. I waited so I could finally have a right to be here. I suppose I waited all this time for yesterday to come.

My friend Ed just asked me: do I feel any different? Oddly enough, even if I've been a permanent resident for 10 years now, I do. I still remember the time I was involved in Filipino-American community activism. I turned to my friend, a dedicated advocate and activist whom I highly respected, and asked her, "Why am I even doing all of this when I'm not supposed to be here in the first place -- while I don't even belong here, technically speaking at least?"

The answer is: because I was here. And now, because I belong.

Comments

[Jet]

that was a pleasure to read Gigi. congratulations! let's celebrate!!!:D

[MadMuse]

Congratulations, Gigi! I remember that moment well. It was bittersweet for me. It's so much easier to travel with an American passport though! Woohoo!

[The Ca t]

Congrats!!!

I've been reading your blog and I admire your honesty.

I have just gotten my citizenship too after staying here for more than ten years. Unlike my siblings who were petitioned and came as immigrants, I did the hard way, the H1B. I have to dumb down my resume too when I started applying for a job when I got the permanent resident status.

This causes problem when you impress the higher gods and the lower gods feel insecure.

So many stories which just make us more resilient and stronger.

[iggy]

what a great post - you're inspiring in your honesty and tenacity. congratulations!

[Gigi]

Jet - We have so much to celebrate! I'll email you...sana we can set something up before Jay goes on his trip.

MadMuse - Bittersweet it was, for sure. There was a rush of thoughts and feelings when I was told I passed. But I've also made peace with my conflicting emotions: have realized I don't need to be a citizen to be a Filipino, or love where I come from. :)

The Ca t - So nice to see you here! Yes, making a new home definitely turns your world upside down...and when you've put everything back together again, you find out your world is larger. And that you're stronger than you ever thought possible.

Iggy - Thanks!!!

[Gej]

Hi Gigi!

Grabe I did not know you (and your Mom) went through that much difficulty pala!

[bingskee]

congratulations to you! i could almost feel the emotion that goes with the news.

[Irene]

Congratulations! I'm so happy for you. =)

I hope those Kanos know how lucky they are to have you in the their midst. ;p

[Gigi]

Gej - I used to tell myself a lot: "What doesn't kill you..." Until that one night when two crackheads try to whack me repeatedly with a 4x4 so they could get my purse. I thought for sure my "getting stronger" days were over. :)

Bingskee - Thanks!!!

Irene - That's really sweet of you to say. :) Sometimes I feel a bit lost between two worlds; other times I feel lucky to have two places to call home. I suppose somewhere in the middle is reality, 'no?

[cathy]

Gigi, what a brave, brave journey! Congratulations! YOu should write a book :)

[Gigi]

Cathy - Only if you promise to edit it. :)

[gary]

Wow, that was a great story gigi and congrats too! Write a book one day will ya? g

[Gigi]

Gary - Are you sure you want me to? I might have to mention you, you know. :)