Double Agent

After almost 11 years spent in the U.S. under various statuses, I am about to become a U.S. citizen. I was glad to receive the letter with the naturalization ceremony appointment, but so far the process has been very conceptual. I was taken aback when Mai got all upset last night because I didn’t remind her of the date of the ceremony so now it was too late for her to clear her schedule. I just shrugged: “I told you the date when I received the letter last month”… but she seemed genuinely hurt and disappointed. I can’t figure out why – I am just one of a thousand people who will raise their hand in front of the US flag and pledge allegiance. No biggie. Oops, I’d better get going if I want to be on time. I gulp my breakfast and leave.

***

As I get to my assigned seat I begin to realize that I’ve never taken part in a ceremony that involves so many people. My engineering school year had about forty graduate students. I look around in this huge theater and I am struck by the efficiency of the process, as the soon-to-be US citizens get ushered to their seats. A few free spirits try to bend the rules but they are quickly instructed to get back to their seats: the “ushers” explain that naturalization certificates will be handed to us at the end of the ceremony, so those who don’t sit in the right spot won’t get their certificate. That would be a bummer! As the troublesome few mumble and complain their way to their assigned seating area, an old lady takes the seat next to me. She’s Russian and is really happy to learn that I am a Frenchman… like many Russians in her generation she speaks very good French – a reminiscence of the days before the Red October revolution.

***

The room is packed, lights are off. Our host starts his speech by welcoming all of us very warmly. Then he says “Hola”… and does a similar speech in Spanish. I am very impressed, this guy’s language skills are quite good. He gets a well-deserved round of applause. After a short hesitation I vaguely recognize his next few words as… Chinese! Incredulity and silence are quickly followed by roars from the crowd. Then comes German, French, Italian, Indian, Russian (my neighbor giggles – he must be making either good jokes or bad mistakes), Portuguese and even Tagalog. None of us was expecting an Immigration Services officer to make a welcome speech in 10 languages. This ceremony is surprisingly interesting!

***

A documentary. They gathered one thousand of us in a theater to show us a cheesy documentary that we could have watched online. “Sleepy time!” says my sarcastic mind.

***

Five minutes into the documentary: images show generations of immigrants. Some came for the opportunity, some to escape violent regimes, some to build a better life for themselves and their children. War refugees. Old people. Young people. Kids. Babies. These people left their lives behind and found in the United States a place to call home. Immigration is an infinite patchwork of individual stories, and each of them is unique. Sadness and hope. Loss and reconstruction. Sacrifice and opportunity. Freedom. Freedom to be who you are. Freedom to build your life the way you want it. Freedom to be defined by what you do – not by where you come from. Tears in the dark…

***

The ritual is simple: when your country of origin is named, you stand. By the time Mexicans, Chinese and Indians are up it becomes hard to see who is still sitting, but there are scores of other countries represented today. A few compatriots rise with me for France. Italians are few but very vocal. This is a celebration: people cheer, whistle, shout and sing. The entire room is radiating with positive energy – one thousand different wavelengths slowly becoming one.

Near the end of the list, my Russian neighbor makes a “tsk tsk” sound as a single immigrant stands up for the “USSR”, a country that appeared and disappeared within her lifetime. Her story must be so fascinating.

***

We all raise our hands and repeat the oath of allegiance, facing the American flag. Just a few words, simple yet powerful. Over a thousand souls entered this room as citizens of a hundred countries, and in a wave of a magic wand they instantly became United States citizens. I can almost touch the emotion around me. Heads are straight, faces are smiling, eyes are wet. We the people.

***

As I walk back to the car with my naturalization certificate in hand, I now understand why Mai wanted to join me today. This is not just a step in a process, this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, an emotional rollercoaster that leaves me almost knocked out. I feel exhausted yet I do want to celebrate – my first meal as a US citizen shall be a hamburger and fries!

***

Epilogue: A few weeks later I receive my new U.S. passport. It is so beautiful. I take a closer look… date of birth: 1919. I look so young for my age!

 

Cedric, 5/20/2011
(US citizen since February 2011)

2 Comments

  • Congratulation Cedric! I lived that emotion years ago when I became US citizen. Mai was a minor then, so she just be converted through my status. I still live and cherish that sentiment, the emotion of an exile, found in this host country. I feel very fortunate that my family is here.