The 4th of July is when we come together to celebrate America and being "American," an idea that already varies from person to person. But for second-generation Americans whose parents were born abroad but immigrated to the United States, it can be even more complicated. For us, our ideas of "American-ness" are a result of what we're told by society as well as our own experiences, which together continue to mold our perceptions throughout our development. And while many harbor mixed feelings or come to resent this notion of what it means to be "American," I have learned to embrace it.
Growing up as a second-generation kid, you're constantly reminded that you don't fit the image of the typical American, and this is especially true if you have physical traits that easily distinguish you from those around you. I remember in the sixth grade, a Chinese-American classmate and I were taken out of class and led to a room filled with other students, most of whom were Latino. We were handed answer booklets and instructed to complete them. We heard a voice on a CD say "The boy has a ball" and were told to circle the sentence in the booklet that matched what we heard.
We were being English tested.
Forty-five minutes later we were dismissed back to our classes, and when my classmates asked why we had left I was humiliated. It was my fifth year in the class for "gifted and talented" students. We were doing most of our subjects at at least the grade level above us. Years earlier the district had determined that we 30 students could be trusted to learn at a higher level than everyone else, and yet they still weren't sure whether that other student and I knew English, because we weren't white or black.
They didn't bother to simply have a conversation with us or ask our teachers whether they thought we might be struggling; this would account for nuance and it was much easier to single people out based on race. But what about those other Latino students, who probably got this on a much more regular basis? How many of those students had been repeatedly pulled out of class simply for their ethnicity, or been constantly underestimated by their teachers for an assumed lack of English comprehension? And what about students who looked like "typical" white or black Americans and weren't tested but really could have benefited from English-learning services?
Experiences like this were not common only for me, but for every second-generation kid in America. And combined with blatant anti-immigrant rhetoric in the media and general American ignorance about the rest of the world, it's easy to see why so many children of immigrants feel uneasy about the title of "American." America has never been unconditional in its acceptance of us, so why should we be in unconditional in our acceptance of it?
I've come to embrace being "American" because at a basic level, at least in theory, I believe that "American-ness" is a set of values. Despite what people growing up would have me think, America is not a certain food, religion, skin color, or even language. America is the idea that if you work hard, you'll have a fair shot at bettering yourself. America is the idea that everyone should have an equal voice in their government. And, what I think about every 4th of July, America is the idea that by bringing people together from a variety of backgrounds across the world, we can create a greater society and a better future.
Of course, America's history is overwhelmingly problematic. From the genocide of Native Americans, to the transatlantic slave trade, to the internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II, America's actions often run counter to its supposed fundamental values. But this is why no matter how much people may want us to, we must never forget our past mistakes lest we find ourselves repeating them again in the present. And as a second-generation American who over the years has found growing support for this ideal of what America can be, I have faith that it is not some far-off dream. For me, the 4th of July is more than just a reminder of how far America has come. It's also a motivator for how much further we have to go.
