https://www.reddit.com/r/blog/comments/5r43td/an_open_letter_to_the_reddit_community/
created by kn0thing on 30/01/2017 at 22:34 UTC*
115849 upvotes, 62 top-level comments (showing 25)
After two weeks abroad, I was looking forward to returning to the U.S. this weekend, but as I got off the plane at LAX on Sunday, I wasn't sure what country I was coming back to.
President Trump’s recent executive order is not only potentially unconstitutional, but deeply un-American. We are a nation of immigrants, after all. In the tech world, we often talk about a startup’s “unfair advantage” that allows it to beat competitors. Welcoming immigrants and refugees has been our country's unfair advantage, and coming from an immigrant family has been mine as an entrepreneur.
As many of you know, I am the son of an undocumented immigrant from Germany and the great grandson of refugees who fled the Armenian Genocide.
A little over a century ago, a Turkish soldier decided my great grandfather was too young to kill after cutting down his parents in front of him; instead of turning the sword on the boy, the soldier sent him to an orphanage. Many Armenians, including my great grandmother, found sanctuary in Aleppo, Syria—before the two reconnected and found their way to Ellis Island. Thankfully they weren't retained, rather they found this message:
My great grandfather didn’t speak much English, but he worked hard, and was able to get a job at Endicott-Johnson Shoe Company in Binghamton, NY. That was his family's golden door. And though he and my great grandmother had four children, all born in the U.S., immigration continued to reshape their family, generation after generation. The one son they had—my grandfather (here’s his AMA)[1]—volunteered to serve in the Second World War and married a French-Armenian immigrant. And my mother, a native of Hamburg, Germany, decided to leave her friends, family, and education behind after falling in love with my father, who was born in San Francisco.
1: https://www.reddit.com/r/IAmA/comments/29039l/iam_john_ohanian_92_year_old_lawyer_parttime/
She got a student visa, came to the U.S. and then worked as an au pair, uprooting her entire life for love in a foreign land. She overstayed her visa. She should have left, but she didn't. After she and my father married, she received a green card, which she kept for over a decade until she became a citizen. I grew up speaking German, but she insisted I focus on my English in order to be successful. She eventually got her citizenship and I’ll never forget her swearing in ceremony.
If you’ve never seen people taking the pledge of allegiance for the first time as U.S. Citizens, it will move you: a room full of people who can really appreciate what I was lucky enough to grow up with, simply by being born in Brooklyn. It thrills me to write reference letters for enterprising founders who are looking to get visas to start their companies here, to create value and jobs for these United States.
My forebears were brave refugees who found a home in this country. I’ve always been proud to live in a country that said yes to these shell-shocked immigrants from a strange land, that created a path for a woman who wanted only to work hard and start a family here.
Without them, there’s no me, and there’s no Reddit. We are Americans. Let’s not forget that we’ve thrived as a nation because we’ve been a beacon for the courageous—the tired, the poor, the tempest-tossed.
Right now, Lady Liberty’s lamp is dimming, which is why it's more important than ever that we speak out and show up to support all those for whom it shines—past, present, and future. I ask you to do this however you see fit, whether it's calling your representative (this works, it's how we defeated SOPA + PIPA), marching in protest, donating to the ACLU[2], or voting, of course, and not just for Presidential elections.
2: https://action.aclu.org/secure/donate-to-aclu
Our platform, like our country, thrives the more people and communities we have within it. Reddit, Inc. will continue to welcome all citizens of the world to our digital community and our office.
—Alexis
Comment by 88locks at 31/01/2017 at 06:35 UTC
278 upvotes, 1 direct replies
I'm a first generation American. My parents were Vietnamese boat refugees.
My parents left their homes because they would rather risk their lives in tiny boats in a vast ocean than live under communist regime. My dad, his brother, and their niece came here together, and I'm not sure if my mom had anyone with her. They don't talk about those times much, but I do know that my dad's boat encountered pirates on the way and had all of their lives threatened for what little valuables they had managed to smuggle out. They all came here not k owing any English, but managed to scrape together enough to cobble a meager living and to be able to bring their families over to safety. They continued to work so hard to be able to provide, to be able to go to school and earn their Bachelor's, and eventually when I came along, to give me a better future. My mom attended night school so she could keep her jobs and had to bring me along to class sometimes because they couldn't afford a babysitter and everyone else was working. They took me out to have fried chicken for my birthday one year because eating out was a luxury. They worked so goddamned hard. So goddamned fucking hard. Now, they're full-fledged citizens who pay taxes and vote.
Comment by [deleted] at 30/01/2017 at 23:50 UTC*
2441 upvotes, 4 direct replies
My grandfather came to the US in the 1950s.
He had nothing left in Germany. His property was looted or destroyed; his family, almost totally murdered. He'd spent the war fighting for the British without a passport as the only sort of turncoat they'd readily accept - a Jew.
He was a bitter, cynical man with an irrational denial of his own mortality. A man who never fit in and who could never go home. A man whose jeep had hit a German land mine, requiring him to collect the steaming bits of his driver - a kid from Kentucky - from yards around.
And y'know what? Nobody cared.
No one cared that he was German, or Jewish, or had a glass eye (though, in fairness, it was a *really good* glass eye.) Nobody cared he couldn't stand American food and didn't really get the culture and *flatly refused* to buy German cars or anything touched by IBM. (His typewriter was a Wang.)
My grandfather was a refugee - one never accepted by the country on whose behalf he fought. An American gave his life for him in the war; but it was America that gave him a life to call his own.
Comment by [deleted] at 01/02/2017 at 21:37 UTC*
52 upvotes, 1 direct replies
[deleted]
Comment by [deleted] at 30/01/2017 at 23:22 UTC
2612 upvotes, 3 direct replies
[deleted]
Comment by koryisma at 31/01/2017 at 01:19 UTC
3100 upvotes, 8 direct replies
I served as a Peace Corps volunteer in Morocco and stayed for a few more years working with a non-profit. Morocco is over 99% Muslim, and Islam is the state religion.
The people there welcomed me with open arms. In my town, I could not leave the house without people inviting me in for tea, bread with jam, dates, or a full meal. Sometimes people would literally drag me into their homes to show hospitality. Why? They saw I was a foreign woman and the way that they lived their faith was to be welcoming and hospitable. Their act of inviting me in, of feeding me, of showing me love, of truly accepting me as I was, for who I was? To them, it was literally an act of worship.
I have dozens of stories-- the time I lost my wristlet (with money, passport, phone, etc.) and when I called the phone, the taxi driver who found it drove it out to where I was, took me to where he found the wristlet, then offered to drive me anywhere I wanted. He asked for nothing in return.
Or the time that I stopped in a small village on a long-distance bus, and an old man grabbed my hand, intertwined his fingers with mine, and said "Morocco and the U.S. are like brothers. We are close. Like this. You are like our family."
The way I was adopted into certain families. The way that my neighbors who had so little resources that they didn't have a bathroom in their house still sent their daughter over with a pot of tea and stuffed bread when I came back from traveling... they knew I probably was tired and wanted to rest, but wanted to be sure I was taken care of without having to prep food and cook.
I moved to Rabat-- the capital-- after Peace Corps. While there, I met the man who is now my husband. A Muslim, Moroccan, wonderful man. He is the opposite of what many think a "Muslim man" must be like. We respect each other. He treats me like an equal partner in everything. We laugh together every day, and after five years of marriage, I am more and more in love with him.
He teaches me to be a better person. When we first got married, he showed me that settling disagreements with raised voices and hurtful words isn't how you treat a loved one. He helped me settle down with my temper. And even now, if he sees it starting to flare, he'll de-escalate me with a joke or by making light of the situation. He helps me remember what is important in life-- people, actions, simple things... not a good job, having a good image, or impressing others.
My heart is breaking. I am calling, I am writing, I am marching. But my heart is breaking. He came halfway across the world to be with me, and now, my country is such the opposite of the hospitality, love, acceptance, and welcome that I received in Morocco. It's a terrible juxtaposition, and I hope we can stand up, speak out, and make change.
Comment by ShaikhAndBake at 01/02/2017 at 22:11 UTC*
45 upvotes, 1 direct replies
1st born to my parents in Pakistan. Dad left his radio officer job and moved me, my mom, and himself to the US before I was even a year old. Left all of his family so that I could have a better life than the corruption and inequality so rampant in Pakistan. Over the years he's helped everyone in his family to get US citizenship or at least a greencard, ending with my cousin just a few months ago.
Now I'm a 3rd year medical student on the way to be the first doctor in my family and have had the privilege to have taken care of folks from all spectrums of life: undocumented immigrants, patients with more money I could possibly dream about, patients fighting cancer, veterans, you name it.
The least I and everyone else here can do for our great country is to take care of those who can't take care of themselves - too bad our president doesn't share that sentiment.
Edit: Thank you for the gold!
Comment by tiger13cubed at 30/01/2017 at 23:29 UTC*
2325 upvotes, 6 direct replies
I am a Bosnian-American. My mom and I fled war-torn Bosnia in the early 90's after a man came to our front door and pointed guns at us because of our religion. (I won't say which one but you can guess which one...) We struggled in refugee camps for a couple of years, suffering starvation and disease until we finally got asylum to come to the US. My mom and I are both US citizens and we love our country. We live in the south now and we fear that the same persecution that drove us to flee to the US will make us flee from it.
Edit: Thanks for the gold strangers! Had I known this would get attention I would have written more of my story. I'll say this, my mom is a single mother and she worked very hard in a factory to put me through school. We struggled with money for a long time. I eventually got a scholarship to go to college. I have since graduated and found a job writing software. Now I do everything in my power to make sure that my mom lives comfortably and never has to worry about money.
Comment by TheJaice at 30/01/2017 at 23:47 UTC*
3114 upvotes, 6 direct replies
My grandparents were children, living in a German speaking village in Ukraine, and our family had been there for generations, when WWII started. When the Germans pushed through Ukraine, they gave my grandparents German citizenships, due to the fact that they spoke German. They were forced to work manual labour on their own farms for nothing, and give almost everything to the German soldiers.
When the Soviets pushed back, they fled through Eastern Europe, afraid that the Soviets would kill them as soon as they heard them speaking German. My great-aunt told me stories about their escape that made me weep, including losing a baby to illness, which was buried, through the kindness of strangers, in an unknown town in Poland, and having to leave an older brother and his family is East Germany, because they had a baby that may have cried on the train, and revealed them all.
My grandfather remembers riding a bike out of the city of Dusseldorf (they didn't know it was Dusseldorf until years later) while the British bombers flew overhead, and he dove into a ditch, while my Great-Grandmother lay in a horse-cart in the middle of the road, delivering my great-uncle, by herself, and thinking the bombs would fall on them at any moment.
As a child, I can remember at Thanksgiving and Christmas, my grandfather would never eat pumpkin pie. I found out when the escaped Europe and came to Canada, they had sailed on a boat that was carrying pumpkins, and that was all they had to eat for months, as they crossed the Atlantic. He never ate pumpkin again.
My grandparents were very fortunate to arrive in Canada, and were set up working on beet farms in Southern Alberta, where they spent the rest of their lives. But my Dad was a first-generation Canadian, from a German-speaking family, growing up in the decade after WWII. He and his brothers (and my grandparents) faced a lot of discrimination and hatred as he grew up, but they also found acceptance, and a country that welcomed them with open arms. My Dad, despite being a white male, in his late 50's, is one of the strongest proponents for helping those who are trying to create a better life for themselves, because his parents lived it, and if they had been turned away, my Dad wouldn't be here, I wouldn't be here, my kids wouldn't be here.
My Dad met that baby, his cousin, who had to stay behind in East Germany, when he was in his 30's, and his cousin was in his 50's. He spent his whole life living behind the iron curtain, and my Dad, who is the strongest man I know, cries when he thinks about how close his parents came to a similar fate.
edit: Removed a word.
Comment by Zexui at 30/01/2017 at 23:19 UTC*
7018 upvotes, 7 direct replies
Both my parents grew up during the Khmer Rouge. When my father was a teenager he had to cross the border into Thailand and then back to Cambodia just to gather food for my family. Not only did he have miles to hike but he was also under the threat of being killed by Pol Pot's men or Thai soldiers. When he was 14 he threatened several Thai soldiers with a hand grenade just so he could take home a watermelon. Two of his sisters starved to death. My mom witnessed kids stepping on land mines and people being executed on the spot. My grandfather was executed by firing squad for being a teacher. Luckily both of my parents made it into Red Cross refugee camps. Both of them eventually moved here to the US where they met and had me and my brother. I'm incredibly thankful for the United State's refugee program because I literally wouldn't be alive without it. Now I'm 19 years old and ready to become an educated productive member of society. Although our country may have its problems, I still could not be any more prouder to be a United State's citizen.
Edit: Thanks for the love friends. We're all a bit divided right now, but I'm hopeful that one day we all can come together and work as one planet.
Comment by G1trogFr0g at 31/01/2017 at 00:02 UTC*
7611 upvotes, 5 direct replies
The year is 1975 and the Vietnam War has ended. My grandfather has been sent to a Reeducation camp, and my father at 17 years old becomes the man of the house. His uncle and him lease a 20ft fishing boat and for the next 9 months they learn how to operate, sail and feed themselves. Finally one night, he takes his crew, along with 200 others, and sneaks their way out of Vietnam to Malaysia.
After 3 days at sea, they finally see the coast. They start to enter the cove when the authorities using war boats shoo them away back into international waters.
This how I know my father, even at the age is 17, will always be smarter than me. He tells them to keep circling the in-land until they find the richest, most expensive resort they can find. Then, just before dawn, they sneak closely to the white sandy beaches, drop off the women and children quickly, go back out 100 ft and sink the boat. By the time the authorities have discovered them: there are 200 people floating on to the beach, boat sinking, and about 25 white tourists watching this commotion. The authorities cannot afford the bad press and allow them into Malaysia as refugees.
My father eventually made to America and landed in the dead of Boston's winter with $5 cash, an address, and is wearing shorts no less. Thankfully, a kind American gives him a jacket as he exits the airport.
At 19 years old, owning $5, a borrowed jacket, and without knowing English; he pushed himself into the local college; sometimes ate pigeons caught in his dorm room; drove $300 cars; and graduated with a Bachelors in Engineering and has played a small but integral part in creating the first personal computers.
Edit: grammar, and to thank everybody who has taken the time to read this. And thank you anybody who has ever helped out a refugee.
Edit2: thanks the gold stars! My first!
Edit3: **there seemed to some confusion that I didn't make clear, he came to America legally when a Christian church sponsored him ( he was and is atheist).
Comment by [deleted] at 31/01/2017 at 02:26 UTC*
620 upvotes, 3 direct replies
[deleted]
Comment by santaunavailable at 30/01/2017 at 23:06 UTC*
2045 upvotes, 3 direct replies
My cousin secured a Visa right before the Syrian war broke out -- he was supposed to visit us in the summer of my seventh grade.
Then his father was tortured to death by the Syrian government.
We managed to bring our cousin over with his visa, but he had to leave the rest of his family behind.
We're glad we got him the visa.
Edit: Thank you for the gold.
If anyone else wants to gild me, I politely ask that they decline to do so and instead donate to the Syrian American Medical Society. They're good guys.
https://foundation.sams-usa.net/donate/
Comment by timetospeakY at 31/01/2017 at 04:04 UTC
200 upvotes, 1 direct replies
My mother was (past tense because she passed away) an immigrant from Venezuela. She came to start her life over after living in poverty and marrying a much older man when she was 19 just to get out of her abusive and suffocating life with her mother. She had a son with her first husband but soon realized she couldn't make a good life for him there and she needed to get as far from her now ex husband who was stalking her with the help of her mother.
She moved to the US with a boyfriend, nothing to their names but a beaten down car which they used to get their first jobs delivering newspapers in the morning before anyone was awake. She did that until she could afford to go to National University in San Diego and get her degree in human resources. That's where she met my dad, a 4th generation Californian, but technically just as much an American born of immigrants as she was. In fact his great great grandfather came from Norway on the first ship around the world looking for a better life.
They eventually got married and had me and then my younger brother. We were born in California, and my mom was the main source of income while my dad started his own business. When my dad's business became substantial enough to support us when I was about 12, she switched to a more part time job while also being an extremely hands on mother. She joined the PTA, ran the elementary school newsletter, drove us to and from school and extracurricular activities, made every meal, took care of the house, the pets, made tons of friends, was known in the community as someone who would step in when there was a need that needed to be met.
She contributed in every possible way that a citizen could, but she kept her Spanish and Venezuelan dual citizenship (she was born in Spain and moved to Venezuela as a child to escape Franco, that's a whole other story), because she was aware that the American Dream was not guaranteed. She always said she'd become a citizen if Hillary ever ran for president though. She was very aware and invested in American politics, which was why it scared her to see how quickly and terribly things could change for Americans, citizens and immigrants alike, and why she kept her foreign citizenships.
She was one "tough cookie" (she loved that American saying). She passed away when I was 15 but she lives in me, my brother, my half brother, her sister and brother in law, their kids (all of whom are now American citizens from Venezuela and have jobs and houses and businesses, or are American students), and all the people she touched. I identify as a product of a hard ass, brave, funny, loving, and incredibly proud immigrant. This country is lucky as hell to have had her for 22 years of her life.
Comment by SteveAngelis at 30/01/2017 at 22:39 UTC*
8539 upvotes, 5 direct replies
My extended family fled from the Germans in the 30's. Most were turned away. A few lucky ones got into Canada, a few into Brazil and South America. The rest were sent back to Germany. All those sent back to Germany died.
Food for thought...
Comment by Andromeda321 at 30/01/2017 at 23:04 UTC*
1943 upvotes, 3 direct replies
Astronomer here! I just had a colleague in the Netherlands who is a kickass astronomer forced to turn down an invited talk to a prestigious institute in the USA. Which would be an *amazing* career boost and really help out science in the USA as well... *but* he happens to be Iranian in addition to Dutch, because his father is, so he can't come give his invited talk. This is so fucking awful on so many levels.
My own family's immigrant story because you asked: I am a first generation American, born from Hungarian parents. My father was born in a refugee camp in Austria after WW2- his first crib was a flour crate, my grandfather with two PhDs worked in a rock quarry for pennies, and they got sponsored to Canada when my dad was 3. At the time the USA also discriminated against nationalities for immigration- my family was on the "losing side" of WW2 so were not allowed entry even though they were against the war, of course. But my father moved to the USA with his family in high school the year the law was changed (my grandfather immediately got university teaching jobs until he died), and my dad started a small business that provided for many Americans many times over the initial investment.
My mom came over in the 1980s, as a defector from communism, and married my father. So basically turning her back on her home, at the time with no idea on when she'd ever return. She ultimately got a graduate degree in education and raised some pretty awesome children who are productive citizens (if I may say so), and we are all proud to be Americans.
It makes me so sad now to know that there is right now the equivalent of my father as a Syrian kid out there right now, for whom once again the door is closed.
Edit: a lot of people are saying my colleague should just enter on his second passport. Well guys, when you apply to come to the USA they ask you to list *all* your nationalities and said visa is typically good for a few years (for European ETSA stuff at least). Not sure when my colleague applied, but when he did he did not want to break the law and was truthful on his application about multiple citizenships. And now he's supposed to fly out next week, but no airline would dream of flying him because he would likely be turned back at the border because of info in his visa that he's also Iranian.
This is one of literally thousands of stories out there. It's not exceptional. Stop acting like he is the problem instead of a stupid, ill-crafted order in the first place.
Comment by wednesdayyayaya at 01/02/2017 at 10:32 UTC
23 upvotes, 1 direct replies
Nobody will see this, but it's OK, because it's not even my story.
My hometown is really white. There were no black people, at all. No black people in the region, hardly any black people in the whole country.
In some towns there were Moroccans, sometimes Roma people too. Not in my hometown. Expensive housing, tons of summer-only inhabitants, typical coastal, tourism-oriented little town.
And 20 years ago, black men arrived here. They stood out like a sore thumb: tall, young, athletic, and obviously black. Many people regarded them with mistrust.
They didn't speak any of the local languages. But they wanted to work. So, as is traditional, they took the jobs the locals didn't want. They became fishermen, the ones that stay at sea for months on end. Really tough job that used to be the main source of income for the town, until tourism took over. The kind of job that young local people didn't want to get into.
These black men spent months at a time out at sea, fishing, with older local men. So, when ashore, they started interacting more and more. They started learning the languages too; at first they couldn't write in those languages, but they got really good at speaking them, because they learned them from constant exposure and repetition.
So, 15 years ago, you could see groups of fishermen having drinks; for every 4 white, older fishermen, there was one younger, black fisherman. And they spoke the same language, and they had each other's back.
And then the black women came. I don't know how it happened, but it did: suddenly there were black women too, and those black women married those black men. I'm sure there could be some mixing too, but I left the town, so I don't know.
Now there are black kids at the local high school. They speak the local languages and they are local, born and bred. They have the same rights and the same opportunities. And I'm so happy everything turned out right. Their parents had to fight tooth and nail for it, but it turned out right.
And that's their story.
Comment by hoodoo-operator at 30/01/2017 at 22:43 UTC*
6063 upvotes, 5 direct replies
People complaining that reddit is becoming too political seem to forget that the admins blacked out the entire site in protest of a specific bill being voted on in Congress. Making a post in opposition of a president's executive order is small potatoes compared to their political actions in the past.
Comment by moby323 at 31/01/2017 at 01:32 UTC*
93 upvotes, 1 direct replies
I'm a a foreigner who has become a naturalized citizen of the United States.
My parents, both of whom hold doctorate degrees, brought our family here when I was 5 years old. My father was escaping a brutal civil war in Africa.
A "terrorist state".
We had green cards, which meant that we could live here permanently.
But after many years living in this country, we wanted to take it a step further. We all applied for citizenship.
It's not always an easy (or cheap) process. My dad made it first, then my mom. When I was 18 (having lived the past 13 years in the US) I was finally approved for citizenship.
The day I became a citizen was one of the proudest days in my life. I was sworn in, given an American flag pendant, and the next day I signed up for selective service (puts your name in the drawing for military draft, should that ever happen again).
My parents are both doctors. I and my sister earned masters degrees and work in the medical field. My other sister earned her doctorate and is a college professor.
We are good citizens. We pay our taxes. No one in my family has been in legal trouble. My sister has spent years volunteering at a homeless shelter, I have spent years volunteering at a free clinic for low-income people who don't have health care. My other sister is a foster parent and works with troubled and abused children.
I may be arrogant in saying this, but I feel like we have paid our dues, that we have given back as much as we have gotten.
Green cards are hard to get. WE WERE VETTED. You don't just show up and say, "I'd like three green cards please. "
And citizenship takes effort for years, and diligence, and money.
We aren't citizens just because we happened to be born in Kentucky or Pennsylvania or Ohio.
We are citizens because we love this country enough that we are willing to make the effort over years (and spend thousands of dollars) just so we can have that little flag on our lapel and have the pride to say we are American.
Is THAT the kind of person Trump wants to keep out?
Comment by ABomb117 at 30/01/2017 at 23:37 UTC*
322 upvotes, 1 direct replies
My grandfather and grandmother moved with my dad, his brothers and sisters from South Korea after they escaped North Korea during the Korean War. They originally were planning on going to Brazil but a similar situation happened like what has just happened this week in America and they ended up being able to immigrate to the USA instead and start a life with the literal money in my grandpas pockets. They lived and grew up in the Bay Area and now 35 years later my dad is a successful small business owner in Phoenix AZ with grandchildren and a neat legacy to leave behind. I'll never understand what it was like for them in the old country.
Edit: Spelling and grammar
Edit: First time being gifted gold. Glad it was over something meaningful. Thanks stranger
Comment by corvuscrypto at 31/01/2017 at 02:29 UTC
19 upvotes, 1 direct replies
This probably won't get read since I'm late to the comment game. However my father's parents were immigrants from Mexico. This is often hard to convince people of since their last name was Allen (the lineage had an Irishman break into the branches of the tree so the legends go).
Anyway, they were hard on becoming American so they wouldn't be outed in Los Angeles when they migrated here. This went as far as not even teaching my father spanish after he was born. They also cut ties to several members of their family back in Mexico. They certainly integrated well and were able to get my dad and my aunts and uncle some good education. However much was lost: traditions, family history, language, etc. In the interest of integrating so they wouldn't get targeted by those who did not like the Mexican communities at the time (apparently there was shitty treatment back when they migrated without any real help about the situation for those involved).
This is probably not a kind of story you'll see here a lot but it makes me infuriated at what I could have shared with people as a 2nd generation Mexican American. Because of hatred and racism, my family was basically forced into dropping everything about their Mexican identity to enjoy their lives here in America.
I guess my point with this is that the ideals our leadership is injecting into its citizens are the same that convinced my family they needed to loose themselves of anything Mexican to fit in. This is so wrong and I hope no one else can say their family lost its history and culture out of fear of being ousted because some fat cheeto lied about what their people represent.
Comment by [deleted] at 30/01/2017 at 22:45 UTC*
20255 upvotes, 3 direct replies
/u/kn0thing's reaction coming back from vacation
Comment by timotab at 30/01/2017 at 23:43 UTC
347 upvotes, 5 direct replies
in 20 days, I will have been a US Citizen for 6 years
Comment by 2018MidtermElections at 30/01/2017 at 22:56 UTC
3524 upvotes, 3 direct replies
https://www.usa.gov/register-to-vote
Comment by Panda413 at 30/01/2017 at 22:38 UTC
27173 upvotes, 10 direct replies
“Our progress in degeneracy appears to me to be pretty rapid. As a nation, we began by declaring that 'all men are created equal.' We now practically read it, 'all men are created equal, except negroes.' When the Know-Nothings get control, it will read, 'all men are created equal, except negroes, and foreigners, and Catholics.' When it comes to this I should prefer emigrating to some country where they make no pretense of loving liberty—to Russia, for instance, where despotism can be taken pure, and without the base alloy of hypocrisy.”
― Abraham Lincoln, Speeches and Writings, 1832-1858
Comment by Lacatrachita16 at 04/02/2017 at 03:38 UTC
16 upvotes, 1 direct replies
I was brought to the United States at the age of 7 illegally from Honduras. My parents and I settled in the welcoming community that is the city of Houston, TX. By the age of 10, I had learned enough English to excel in school and even surpass my American born classmates. I was always to proud to be on the Honor Roll semester after semester. I knew how lucky and blessed I was. After all, God had allowed us to be in the United States when one of the worst hurricanes ravaged Honduras in 1998. By the time college came around, I was able to attend a full year at SHSU but it became almost impossible to pay the tuition so I decided to go to a technical school. While many of the people there only went to take advantage of the grants the government gave them and never show up for class, my parents had to pay for the entire course. One of the best things America has given me is an EDUCATION. America has let me have friends from all over the world, something I would have never gotten to experience in my home country. I am an American in all but paper.
