A few weeks ago I pledge the oath and finalized my immigration to the United States of America.
It was one of the most incredible feelings of my life. All the fear of having my life ripped out from under me, all the time and effort invested into getting there, and the journey of all the people in my life all focused on a single moment. The gravity of it all was… well awesome in the truest definition of the word.
The last time I felt so much relief and emotion was after the birth of my daughter. Of course after the oath ceremony I was not given a seven pound baby to raise which was a bit of a bonus. 😉
Connected Through Immigration
The connection to my ancestors was uniquely felt. I can not imagine what it must have been like to set out on a new adventure knowing you probably would never see your family and homeland again. And therefore it seemed the stories I grew up with had a reflective theme of building a home, a family, and a community.
I grew up on the east coast of Canada. North east of Maine. My home province of Nova Scotia is a tapestry of immigrants. Distinct cultures and their languages, accents, food, songs and folklore dot the communities I grew up in. And I’m so proud to have been born and raised there. I feel I bring a little piece of all of that with me and I’ve sewn it into the life I’m building here.
Moving to the United States wasn’t as difficult for me as it is from some. It was a choice. I wasn’t running from war, disaster or persecution. And I can easily go back and visit my family and friends. As the family archivist I have documented my journey, all the good, bad and sometimes ugly, when moving to a new country. And it has made me painfully aware of how everyone is not so lucky.
Tracking Down Immigration Stories
Now a days there is plenty of paper work (trust me on this one) to track down immigration stories.
Digging into the past we can visit and explore the history of Elis Island and other ports into America. We can read about the Japanese interment camps of World War II. We can ask questions of our family members. There is nothing better than discussing the culture of your family to find why people do thing the way they do. Superstitions and Medical Treatments can offer up some of the best stories and clues into your families origin.
At some point it all comes down to just being here. Wanting to be here. The road here was long, sometimes scary, and more than once I questioned what I was doing. That doesn’t take away from how proud I am to be an American. How I delight in saying, “my fellow Americans”. It also means I absolutely know the path of an immigrant. What we’ve brought to and how we’ve invested in our new country. And as I reflect on what it means to be an American I look forward to hearing more immigrant stories. Sometimes I feel we just need a hug an immigrant day!
Blueskies,
Tami