This 4th of July, I’m Furious
I have been a patriotic American since I have naturalized at the age of 16, after immigrating with my family when I was 9.
Though my politics have always been progressive, I often shrugged off criticisms of the US government. “People don’t realize how good we have it and how bad it could get,” was my philosophy, happy to be among the privileged relishing in my civil rights and human rights.
Before immigrating, my family ran a bathhouse in South Korea near a university. I remember when the Wanted posters went up. They posted one in our entryway. I studied the photos that were clearly college student ID pictures. Fresh faces, barely adults. Rows and rows of faces. They did not look like criminals. What were they were guilty of? I was told: 데모 or “DEMO,” short for demonstration.
They were young protesters for democracy.
When one of these “DEMO’s” took place, tear gas would permeate our streets into our homes. The bathhouse was cleared out in minutes as people gagged and coughed. My 4 years old little brother had respiratory issues and especially could not breathe. My parents would close the bathhouse and take us to a friend’s home in a different part of town. The nervous energy, the fear was palpable. It was the first time I remember the urgency of fleeing, the terrifying heartbeat of a nightmare. Meanwhile, college student protesters were being beaten, arrested, and jailed.
In 1989, the year before we immigrated, the blood of the Tiananmen Square Massacre ran crimson. We watched in shock as tanks rolled over hordes of student demonstrators who were peacefully calling for democracy. The death toll estimates vary from several hundreds to several thousands.
As someone who is ethnic Chinese, born and raised in Korea, I witnessed the price people paid for protest. So in comparison, I felt proud at the ease with which my fellow American citizens organized peaceful protests. The ready outrage, the confidence, and boldness with which we could make our voices heard. I loved living in a society where political organizers were celebrated as generous givers of time, intellect, and energy instead of criminalized as selfish troublemakers.
Now babies are dying at our border. Thousands are imprisoned in cramped, unsanitary, conditions, suffering sexual abuse and psychological trauma, all for seeking asylum. The venerated US Constitution would bleed alongside the weeping Lady Liberty at the sight of border concentration camps. Many of us have cried out, have donated money but it is not enough. More than ever, I want to take to the streets. I want to knock down fences. I also want to weep.
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The current administration has succeeded. American is no longer a beacon of hope, of freedom, of justice to the world. With what’s happening now, we are no longer even a controversial symbol of democracy, a status Americans have treasured since our founding. The current administration has stripped us of everything we stand for as Americans.
I am an American weeping. My family fought hard to be a part of the American dream that has been turned into a nightmare.
This American is furious.
Take Action:
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/24/opinion/border-kids-immigration-help.html
Donate to RAICES:
https://www.raicestexas.org/donate/
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Photo by Nitish Meena on Unsplash
