WOAH

WHERE DID THE LAST THREE YEARS GO?






I am not ready for more change. 

What is an American?

To be an American

What does it mean to be an American in the world today? To have grown up within the borders of the continental United States, Hawaii or countries that are American Commonwealths? To be patriotic and supportive of American troops and military? To stop whenever I hear the national anthem and put my hand over my heart? Technically, I am American, but I am none of those things. I can thank my parents for my nationality, because without them, I would only have a birth certificate that places my place of birth in Manila, the Philippine Islands.

I have grown up in seven countries, and until I came to college I had only spent four of my 18 years in the United States; three of which I can barely remember because of my age when I lived there. You cannot give a global nomad a passport; in fact, I probably have the best passport to support my nomadism because of the benefits that being an American have abroad.

I have a friend, someone I have known for two years and is studying in my department at school who recently declared his status as an illegal resident of the United States. His parents brought him in when he was seven years old. Through the help of scholarships, he has been able to attend our university without debt. In less than two weeks he will be graduating, but what does his future look like?  The likelihood that he is able to get a job that he is qualified for is incredibly low. Some people would suggest that he go back to Mexico, where ‘he belongs’. How can someone say that? Can you imagine someone telling you to go back to the place that you are from when you might not speak Spanish well enough to succeed there? To leave you entire family and everything you have to go back to a place that you might have to fear for your safety?

My friend is much more ‘American’ than I am. He has lived in the United States since he was seven. He does not even have the option to travel, because he would not be allowed back into the United States. He worked his way through elementary school, middle school, high school and now University at a very competitive private university. He supports many American political ideals and has desires to change the way that it runs to make it better and use the power that America has for good. I ask the question, why is it that I, a person who is as un-American as it gets, without being anti-American, gets to hold that passport and all the privileges that come with it?

I think that there should be opportunities given to children of immigrants who come in to the United States and work their way through University, even up to the PhD level. The DREAM act is a bill that has been trying to be passed for quite some time now. Politicians are unwilling to touch on it because of elections. Should the future of so many young people who are hard working and willing to sacrifice and fulfill strict requirements to build up to citizenship be compromised simply because of their citizenship status? They are people, just like us, trying to make their way in the world. Be empathetic to them, these young adults came because they were with their parents when they were young. Watch this video and learn a bit about thinking from the lens of someone else.

Voters, step up and demand changes. Vote for policy, not party. Be willing to make a change when others are not.

stories

Stories are incredibly important. A program was put on at school where part of my story was read along with many others. This is what I wrote:

I am a daughter of two fathers, earthly and heavenly.

                 a sister, a friend

I am your typical student, academic, social, extroverted a “face” of Whitworth, a leader.

My hair is blonde, occasionally red, and my eyes are blue

People assume I am like them

That I am from Oregon, Washington, Colorado, California; somewhere near, somewhere people can understand.

But I am not.

I am a chameleon, I can fit anywhere

You think you know me, you think you understand.

I have been persecuted for my faith, for my skin color, for my passport country.

I was born in a country where English is the second official language.

I have lived in a warzone, where life might end at any point

I have tramped through the Amazon, gone sand boarding in the Sahara.

             Tubing in the Alps and hiking on the Nakasendo trail. 

I could chose to be who you assume I am

I could deny my culture and pretend to fit in because it is easy

But I am myself, my background has formed me

I do not have a home church, a hometown, a home anything

My family is my home

Sometimes, many times, I wish I had those things.

I struggle.

Though they are fallen, people are good

They are small reflections of Christ in the world

I have people who have come beside me

To share in my struggles, to fill me up

I have found joy, and I will cling to it.