When you think of immigration the first thing you think about is how Christopher Columbus sailed the Atlantic Ocean in 1492. There, he proceeded to find that all men living in this foreign land were not “white men,” as they called themselves. They learned their culture, they traded with them using various forms of objects, whether it be weapons or food, but like all new things, there lies turmoil.
Fast forward to present day America. The land of the free and the home of the brave. Wrong. It should be addressed as America the land of the free if you are specifically born in America. The land where you are judged by the color of your skin and the likeness of your annual income. Immigrants have a feeling of unwelcome and not belonging in America, as our new president would put quite nicely. He feels as if there are walls and borders for a reason, to be uncrossed.
I was recently put in a situation where I was said to be an immigrant. Being born in Italy, to parents who served the longevity of their life in the Navy, is something I pride myself in. Recently, for school purposes, I was told I needed to get a passport to go on a school trip. While at the post office I gave my information, birth certificate and other forms of identification. Once I looked up I noticed a confused look on the clerk’s face as he gazed at my birth certificate. I ask, “Is there a problem,” and he swiftly makes an abrupt move for the closest phone saying that I don’t have a green card and he needed to call the police. Standing there in utter confusion I ask, “for what,” and he goes to yell, “you are an immigrant to this country and we in America do not want or like people like you,” in disbelief I call my mother. She then tells me, while the clerk is calling the police, that at the bottom of my birth certificate it says that I was born on a naval base making me an American citizen. By this time the police had arrived and everyone in the post office was giving me glares of disgust.
Shortly after arrival they made stand in the corner and examined my birth certificate. Meanwhile the clerk is screaming, “Take her, take her away, that’s the law set by the president.” The police immediately notice the bottom of my certificate exclaiming that I am an American. They point it out to the clerk and with the most apologetic look on his face he begins walking over to me. He starts with, “I am so sorry, I feel so bad for not looking at the complete document, I don’t know what came over me.” I look at him and forgive him but state that, “Maybe next time examine before you act out because if I wasn’t a strong person this situation could’ve traumatized me for the rest of my life.”
Immigration is a very sensitive topic in America today, everyone is unsure of the outcome of it.
