» Nonfiction

101 Steps to Becoming an American

I.

1. Wake up at four in the morning. Your bags are waiting for you, and your grandma and uncle are getting the car ready. The ride to the Caracas International Airport will take several hours, and the flight from Caracas to Atlanta will take eight.

2. Six months prior, your mother left for the U.S. You knew she moved there permanently, but this didn’t bother you. Your house was big; your family was big; you had lots of friends, lots of toys, lots of everything. You’d visit her in America, but only visit. Then you’d return home, where you belonged.

3. Every year prior, as the midnight clock crossed from December 31st to January 1st, your mother scurried across the street with you in one hand and a small suitcase in the other.

4. Things were not so bad yet. There were rumors of a rigged election. Rumors of plans for a rewriting of the Constitution for extended presidential terms. Rumors. Protest. Peaceful protests. Marches with everyone wearing flag shirts, flag hats, flag face paint. For the Republic. For democracy. But things were not so bad.

5. Citizenship offers many benefits and equally important responsibilities. When you naturalize, you agree to accept all of the responsibilities of becoming a U.S. citizen. You agree to support the United States, its Constitution, and its laws. In return, you gain all the rights and privileges of citizenship such as the right to vote and travel with a U.S. passport.

6. During your naturalization interview, a U.S. Citizenship and Immigration officer will ask you questions about your application and background. You will also take an English and civics test.

7. American Government: What is the supreme law of the land? The Constitution. What does the Constitution do? The Constitution sets up the government, defines the government, and protects the basic rights of Americans.

8. Board your first airplane.

9. Get excited. Look out the window and see the airport shrinking, the city coming into full view, clouds passing, and your home fading into a map—like the ones in geography class.

10. You will have a layover in Atlanta, but you will arrive in Salt Lake City at approximately 3 p.m. the next afternoon.

11. Use the only English you know to tell your name to the flight attendants. Try first-class food. Watch the newest movie. Try third-class food. Puke. Learn how to say “Where ees de bathroom?” Try Rice Krispies Treats for the first time.

12. Be excited. This is your first flight, your first time traveling outside the country, and your first time visiting Mom.

13. American History: What is one reason colonists came to America? Freedom. Political liberty. Religious freedom. Economic opportunity. To practice their religion. To escape persecution.

14. Geography: What ocean is on the East Coast of the United States? The Atlantic Ocean.

II.

15. Circle back to English class. All you can remember is “Cat,” “Dog,” “My nem ees…” You’re going to need all of it.

16. Things are not so different here. There are buildings and houses. Gas stations. People. But it is different, though you can’t put your finger on it. The air is unfamiliar. You feel like a little fish in a big ocean, far from the lake in which you grew up.

17. Unpack your bags, go explore, eat your first BLT. Your first burrito. Your first American cheeseburger. It won’t have ham, or fries, or three different cheeses, or garlic sauce, but it’s still good.

18. Experience snow.

19. Discover ChapStick: have your life changed forever.

20. Change is what everyone craves when they say they want to travel. Change. The only unchangeable force in the universe. Too little change and life gets stale like bread; too much change too often, and change can get unnerving like a roller coaster. Just the right amount can make one distracted.

21. Sign up for school. It’s okay, you’ll only be here for a year or two with Mom. Then you’ll go home. Then you’ll have plenty of stories to tell everyone.

22. Repeat 5th grade. It’s because of your birthday. You will now be a year behind all of your friends when you go home. Two years, in fact, since school goes until 11th grade there. But you’ll do great. In fact, you’ll learn English faster than the other English Language Learners at your school because you’re so addicted to trading card games, and all of the cards here are printed in English.

23. The food will be weird. But what it lacks in seasoning it will make up for in cheese. You will be fine.

24. “Poh-taah-toe-eh.”

25. No, no, it’s, ‘Poe-tay-toe.’

26. “That’s what I said.”

27. “Thegypshingocars.” “Thegypshangotcars.” “Thegyptiangodcards.” “The Egyptian God Cards.”

28. “Yes, teacher. I will come to your house Sunday.” Wait, what? “I will come to your house Sunday, right?” Oh! You will come to my house someday. I get it. But, no, don’t do that.

29. Naturalize: To establish a plant or animal so that it lives wild in a region where it is not indigenous. To alter an adopted foreign word so that it conforms more closely to the phonology or orthography of the adopting language. To regard as or to cause to appear natural. To admit a foreigner to the citizenship of a country.

30. Scratch your head over and over and over again. Here, almost no one knows anything about where you’re from. Most cannot place it on a map. Most will mistake you for being from Mexico. The Middle East. Samoa.

31. “You’re not in Kansas anymore.”

32. Some naturalized species can become invasive by either direct competition with native species or genetic pollution through hybridization that can add to negative environmental effects to the native species.

33. In any situation you come to, there will be the fear of the unknown. They do not know you and where you are from. Therefore, they will fear you. Fear may at times disguise itself as hatred. Hatred is nonlinear: It attaches itself to things in the future and/or the past, despite the irrelevance of either in the current context. You will likely not realize this is happening at first. Thus, you will continue to smile and socialize and eventually feel the volume of a massive, unseen roadblock in your attempts to do these.

34. Some naturalized species, such as palms, can become ecosystem engineers, changing their habitat and creating new niches that affect their ecosystem positively. The potential and/or perceived positive impact of naturalized species are, however, less studied than the potential and/or perceived negative impacts.

35. Who lived in America before the Europeans arrived? Native Americans. What group of people was taken to America and sold as slaves? The African people. What territory did the United States buy from France in 1803? The Louisiana Territory. Name one war fought by the United States in the 1800s: The Mexican-American War.

36. Learn quickly. Pay attention. This is a test. This is all a test. Everything you do from now on. Everything.

37. Everything is new, and therefore exciting.

38. After three or four years, tell your mother that you’ve decided to stay. Be happy. This will be a great new experience for you.

III.

39. Ask yourself, “What am I doing here?” Your mother worked for the Governor’s Office. Your aunt traveled the world. Your uncle was a police officer. Your grandma is a retired professor. Your house was one of the biggest on the block. Ask yourself, “What am I doing here? In this one bedroom apartment, with no one around who knows us, without a penny in our pockets, in this borrowed room with all of our belongings crammed on top of each other, unable to pay rent, living off the charity of others, more and more in debt. With no one around. From one place to another, nowhere to settle.”

40. Sell your soul to Satan. Just kidding. But join a gang, or something that’ll make you feel good. Everyone’s doing it. At least all your friends: the ones from Mexico, Bosnia, Thailand. You’re fourteen, what else are you going to do? Prep for college? Yeah, right.

41. Geography: Name one U.S. territory: Puerto Rico. U.S. Virgin Islands. American Samoa. Northern Mariana Islands. Guam.

42. Rights and Responsibilities: What are two ways that Americans can participate in their democracy? Join a civic group. Give an elected official your opinion on an issue.

43. Tell your mother not to worry. It’s just one D-. You’ve always been a good kid; it’s just a slump. It’s not like the time you got caught shoplifting clothes from the mall. That was out of necessity; you didn’t have any money to buy clothes. This is because it’s cool; everyone is doing it. After all, you left all your toys and clothes back home.

44. Get in a fight. Or two. Everyone is doing it. You have to protect your territory. Your girl. Your status. But go to the hospital afterward because they’ll have caught you off guard and jumped you and left you so bruised your mom will almost faint when you get home. She’ll want to yell at you, but she won’t because she’ll be too scared. She’ll break the piggy bank to take you to the nearest hospital and watch over you all night to make sure you take your painkillers. Maybe you’ll have lost the fight. Maybe it will never have been in your favor. But you’ll feel, from that long night of bandages and tears, that the person who got hurt the most was not you.

45. The next day, realize that your friends are not who they say they are. That your life is not going the way you want. That you have a right, no, a responsibility to your mother, to yourself, to everyone else, to get it together. Then, as 9th grade ends, ask your mom to move you far away where you can start over.

46. Holidays: Name two national U.S. holidays. New Year’s Day. Thanksgiving.

47. Eat your first Thanksgiving meal. Your mom’s friend from work invited you two. Take whatever friendships come your way. As long- or short-lived as they may be.

48. Try cranberry sauce. Smile. Be pleasantly surprised with the mushy pile of vegetables and bread they call stuffing. Fall in love with yams. Have seconds, thirds, and fourths. Sit. Smile. Say what you’re thankful for. It’s not like home, but it’s nice. This you can get behind.

IV.

49. Work. Work hard through high school. Maybe you’ll go to college. Maybe you’ll find a scholarship for undocumented immigrants, though you wouldn’t know where to find such a thing, and neither will your mom. Maybe you’ll get lucky. Somehow.

50. Celebrate. Your mother’s boss is willing to pay for your college tuition. It’s just one year of culinary school, but it’s a lot. He’s willing, though. And it means much, much more to you. So you’ll work hard, harder than anyone else in your class. Then you’ll work hard after. After you’ve finished and thrown food up and down hot pans all around the city. People will take advantage. They will invite you to work a test weekend, training, a trial, to see if you’re qualified for the job, then determine you are not eligible because you are undocumented. Then they’ll hand you a twenty-dollar bill for your three days of labor, and they’ll smile because you are not eligible. They will pay you minimum wage for the same labor your coworkers are doing because you are not eligible. You will have to leave many, many jobs prematurely. And you’ll keep working. You’ll work until you find somewhere that will take you, risk and all, and give them your all in return. Weekends. Holidays. Late notices. Duties that don’t belong to you.

51. Learn quickly, pay attention, this is a test. You’ve decided to stay.

52. American Government: What are two rights in the Declaration of Independence? Life. Liberty. And the pursuit of happiness.

53. Experiment.

54. Get lost in yourself. This is the land of opportunity, and you feel like you have none. You’re in your prime. Realize there’s nothing here for you and you need to spread your wings and move somewhere else. Start fresh. Try Texas. It won’t work. You’ll miss home, your mom, your sister, your friends. Return. Try new hobbies. Buy new clothes. Lots of new clothes. Look like an American. Eat like an American. Spend like an American. Get stuck. Your wings will be too heavy. Find yourself somewhere else.

55. Dream. The winter nights here are long. Winters are long.

56. Find a spouse. Get married. Be careful who it is. Everyone will doubt that it’s love. Everyone will wonder if you’re doing it for the papers. The papers. The papers. You will wonder if you’re doing it for the papers. Don’t. Just live. Love. Dream.

57. Have children. They will make you more American. You didn’t expect this to happen. Could this really be you? The immigrant with children who don’t speak their home language? Don’t eat their home food? But they do. This is their home. This is all they know. And you will love them anyway. And you will share your home with them, through memories and food and maps and dreams. Because you’re a dreamer. And some dreams never die.

V.

58. Cultural bereavement is the experience of an uprooted person or group that results from the loss of social structures, cultural values, and self-identity. The person, or group, continues to live in the past and is visited by supernatural forces from the past while asleep or awake. They suffer feelings of guilt over the abandonment of a culture and homeland. They feel pain if memories of the past begin to fade but find constant images of the past (including traumatic images) intruding into daily life. They yearn to complete obligations to the dead and feel stricken by anxieties, morbid thoughts, and anger that mar the ability to get on with daily living.

59. It has been decades since you decided to stay. Decades since you’ve seen the rest of your family, and things have gotten worse. Much worse. But what can you do? You are seas and seasons away. And here, you are nothing. A speck. You have no power to do anything. And it’s getting much, much worse.

60. Rights and Responsibilities: What are two rights of everyone living in the United States? Freedom of expression. Freedom of speech. Freedom of assembly. Freedom of petition. Freedom of religion. Name one right only for United States citizens: The right to vote in a federal election.

61. Back home things have changed. A forest after a wildfire. But flames still burn.

62. Your family sends you pictures. Videos. You see the news. You can’t recognize any of it. There is hope, always hope. Hope that things will return to the way they were, but everyone knows, deep down, that things will never be the way they were. What is left is a dream. A dream of a forest, years after a fire, flourishing again.

63. Somewhere along the line, you got distracted. You’ve changed.

64. Toss and turn in your bed, night after night.

65. Somehow, your mother has stayed the same all this time. This is surprising and comforting. She is, like you, nothing here but still manages to do something. Of this you will take note. You will take note of the years of extra work she and many other freshwater fish put in: the thrift store shopping for new clothes, the food bank visits, the loans, the title loans, the payday loans, the altitude of the chin, the friendships lost and gained, the reset button after an accident, the autopilot, the way a fast food restaurant can suddenly become a palace for a celebration, the piggy banks, the miracles, the indestructible smile, all to give a portion to everyone struggling who stayed home.

66. To have freedom to do anything is to have power.

67. See yourself succeed. Find a new career. Find a home. Find a purpose. See your mother succeed. After years of work. And work. And work. See her find money and time and purpose in helping family, and peace of mind as you join her. When did you find it all, you don’t know. It all just “happened” as you forged ahead, like a slow-moving river, eventually ending up in the ocean.

VI.

68. The civics test covers important U.S. history and government topics. There are one hundred civics questions on the naturalization test.

69. It’s July 6th, and you tell your mother that your test is tomorrow. “Maybe I should give you the pamphlet so you can study for when you apply for citizenship, Mom.” No, no. It’s too early for that. “You should begin to study now.” Your mother shakes her head, and grandma jumps in: Okay, who was the first president of the United States? Your mother’s eyes widen, and she looks for a lifeline: The one who’s sitting on the chair? “Nope, that’s not it. Boy, Mom, that’s the easiest question. If you can’t get that one, how are you going to pass the test?” All I know is that Independence Day is July 4th, she says with a smile.

70. Take your two-year-old daughter to the July 4th celebration at the park. Flag shirts, flag hats, flag face paint. You’ve had dozens of these, and it’s time for you to give her some of what you’ve had. Take her to the playground, get her an inflatable ball, feed her cheeseburgers with no ham or garlic sauce, take her to watch the parade, and dance with her to country music.

71. You have never liked country music. Your spouse told you that it’s the appeal of the simple life that is attractive about it. Family, friends, simple comforts. You’re skeptical. Most country music stars wear as much bling as 50 Cent in his prime. No. It’s something else, and you can’t put your finger on it.

72. Somewhere down the line, country music became a symbol of fear. Was it the kids with cowboy hats on the playground who made fun of your accent or the guy at work with a country accent that never lent a hand? Was it college or the news or one isolated incident hidden from your sight for years? You don’t know. But somewhere down the line, you decided country music was not for you.

73. Face your fears. Dance to country music with your daughter and your mother and her friends. You will dance surrounded by white folks trying to enjoy their 4th of July. Look at them and listen to the rhythm of the music and remind yourself why the Pilgrims came to America.

74. After a few line dances, the speaker will say that in the audience “we have a lot of folks that speak Spanish,” and he wants to apologize now because he doesn’t know a single word of what he is about to say. Then the band plays “La Bamba” by Ritchie Valens.

75. Enjoy the music.

76. Go home. Get a good night’s sleep.

77. There are one hundred civics questions on the naturalization test, and you know most of them. You study harder and harder as the day of your test approaches. You’ve never had test anxiety before, but this is different. Your spouse tests you to prepare.

78. How many U.S. Senators are there? We elect a Senator for how many years? Who is one of your state’s Senators now? The House of Representatives has how many voting members? We elect a Representative for how many years? Name your Representative. How many justices are on the Supreme Court? Who is the Chief Justice of the United States now? What is the name of the Speaker of the House? There are four amendments to the Constitution about who can vote; describe one of them. Name three of the original states. What did Susan B. Anthony do? Who was the president during WWI? Who was the president during WWII?

79. What is one promise you make when you become a United States Citizen? To be loyal to the United States. To defend the Constitution. To obey the laws. To do important work for the nation if needed. To serve in the military if needed. To give up loyalty to other countries.

80. Tell your spouse, “Let’s see how well you do: What is one important thing Abraham Lincoln did?” He was inducted in the Wrestling Hall of Fame.

81. Let’s ask your mom. “Mom, name one U.S. territory.” Texas.

82. Arrive on time to the interview. Be polite. Look clean. Smile. The interviewer is young and serious. It’s a small, beige office with a large desk and a pile of your previous applications for deferred action, work permits, a green card, green card limitations removal, and citizenship lying on the edge—a history of your formal communications with the United States. A lexical map of the geographic locations where you’ve lived since you arrived. A picture of a long journey. A dream. And the interview begins.

83. You don’t have time to settle in. It’s fast. The interviewer asks about your life, not just here and now, but everywhere and at all times, even outside the United States. They ask about your criminal record, your spouse, your children, your parents. You doubt every answer you give. They review your citizenship application. They ask ten questions from the civics test so quickly your hands drip with sweat by the end. And just like that, it’s over. Sign here, review this. This is for your records.

84. Just then, you notice something on the naturalization sheet. Somewhere in the middle of a series of formal identifying information lies a phrase, “Former country of nationality: Venezuela.” You pause… This moment is what you’ve been waiting for for the past twenty years. You sign here: you agree to become a United States Citizen. Naturalized. Accepted. No more twenty-dollar bills for hours and hours of labor. No more jumping from job to job because of your “status.” No more selling yourself to anything or anyone you don’t have to. No more anxiety when you see a police officer. No more long winters. No more empty dreams. It’s here and now. But you hang on to that word as it echoes in your mind: former.

85. You look at the interviewer and say, “Everything looks good, but I have one question… does the U.S. allow dual citizenship?”

86. The interviewer is surprised: You mean… Venezuela?

87. “I mean, do they require that you give up citizenship to your previous country?”

88. They pause.

89. Well, you’ll have to look at the U.S. policy; essentially, no, some countries require that you denounce all ties to former countries; the U.S. is kinda in the middle of the line for all of this; you’ll have to look at the policy on this, it can be kinda tricky; did that answer your question?

VII.

90. Once a person feels accepted—at home, somewhere—they begin to protect that somewhere. A large wall surrounding the city. A large army. A law or two. Once sufficient physical/external protection has been implemented—and at times as it is being implemented—a socio-personal/internal defense mechanism is simultaneously employed. An immunity system consisting of social norms, traditions, pack mentalities, and identity narratives. This antibody-type response even works at an individual level, after most external and internal social threats have been subdued or eliminated, past the time of immediate danger, even when distanced from the place of belonging.

91. “Perhaps home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition” (James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room).

92. Crave your native tongue. Yearn for it. Long for it. For decades, you swam in foreign waters, and it was exciting. Now, as you move closer and closer to the shores of this dream, your soul thirsts for the fresh waters of that little lake where it all began. Music, literature, art, movies, television, friendships, food, history. More than ever, you want to resurrect the past, research it, dance with it, and walk hand in hand into the night.

93. “Maybe your country is only a place you make up in your own mind. Something you dream about and sing about. Maybe it’s not a place on the map at all, but just a story full of people you meet and places you visit, full of books and films you’ve been to” (Hugo Hamilton, The Speckled People: A Memoir of a Half-Irish Childhood).

94. Although the Oath of Allegiance to the United States speaks of renouncing “allegiance and fidelity” to other nations, U.S. immigration law does not explicitly address the topic of dual citizenship. The best summarization of the U.S. government’s position on dual citizenship lies in a U.S. Supreme Court opinion explaining that “a person may have and exercise rights of nationality in two countries and be subject to the responsibilities of both.”

95. Just because the United States allows dual citizenship, however, doesn’t necessarily mean that your country of origin does too.

96. Claims of other countries upon U.S. dual-nationals may result in conflicting obligations under the laws of each country.

97. Receive your approval notice and Oath Ceremony notice. The naturalization ceremony is a solemn and meaningful event. The United States Citizenship and Immigration office asks that you dress in proper attire to respect the dignity of this event.

98. Appear at the ceremony with your spouse. The rest of your family will wait for you outside to celebrate. You’ve said so much up to this moment; the only appropriate thing is silence.

99. “Language is the only homeland” (Czesław Miłosz).

100. You are reminded of a quote a friend introduced you to: “The love of one’s country is a splendid thing. But why should love stop at the border?” (Pablo Casals). You translated to see how this sounds in Spanish. You like the quote, but you hate when online quotes appear without citations because you are never certain if they are true. In this case, it’s not the quote that resonates with you but the idea behind it that lingers. It doesn’t matter if Casals actually said it; someone said it, and that makes the words real. Like sand on a warm beach.

101. Decide that change is not bad, that fish can swim in fresh and saltwater, and that a person can—and often does—have more than one home.