Introduction of an Immigrant’s Voice
Welcome to my first-ever web log. I am a Dominican-American immigrant. This means that I was born in the Dominican Republic to Dominican parents, immigrated with my family as a child to the United States and naturalized as a U.S. citizen as an adult. Everything that I observe and say in this web log reflects my dual-identity–that of my upbringing and family and that of the community in which I have lived the majority of my life. I am still an immigrant and yet, I am just as much an American citizen, and every bit, I believe, a New Orleanian.
There are many directions I can take in my first web log, but I think that it’s important to share a bit of my sadness with you. Being no stranger to intimidation and prejudice, I’ve always been sensitive to cultural and ethnic misunderstandings. However, growing up in the New Orleans area (for us locals, I finished at West Jeff long ago) I came to learn that in New Orleans I could be accepted, despite how different I may appear or sound. I have always thought that this was a saving grace of this great city. Don’t get me wrong, discrimination existed, and I either saw it or experienced it first-hand. But none of what I saw or experienced made me bitter or angry because in the back of my mind I knew that New Orleans was better than this or that one singular moment of expressed misunderstanding.
So now, after working over the last year to help establish Puentes New Orleans, Inc, I am actively involved in educating people, anyone, about the culture and people that make up Latin America. In doing this work I have observed how the dialogue of hate, locally and within the state, has begun to take hold around me. This trend worries me.
I hear my fellow New Orleanians talk about illegal immigrants in a way that reminds me of less pleasant experiences when I was a non-English speaking child in this country. I hear state and Louisiana congressional officials sounding tough on immigration. This worries me, as well. I will tell you why.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I am an immigrant. I am not just the descendent of an immigrant father and mother, or an immigrant grandfather. I am an immigrant. I served in the United Sates Navy Reserves before I became a citizen of the United States. I naturalized, became a citizen, and now I vote just the same as any other citizen. Yet, the people and culture I come from, and the folks who also look and speak like me but may not have the proper paperwork to be in this country are spoken about as if they were criminals. This sort of talk worries me.
I learned of the great Civil Rights movement and appreciated how folks without a voice rose up to be heard. Is this the same country that fought so hard for civil rights that now ignores its own history to gang up on working families that come to the U.S. looking for work?
I can tell you that these people that so many speak so harshly about have not committed any criminal offense by being in the United States without proper documentation. I can tell you that these people that have come looking for work actually want to pay their taxes, want to learn English, want to live in quiet neighborhoods where they can raise their families. I can tell you this because my family was, is, may continue to be, part of this group of people known as immigrants. I can tell you much more that would fill up this blog for days, but I end with asking these questions: why is the rhetoric so harsh and so misleading about a group of people who have only committed a civil violation? If the United States, as a global power, is concerned about global well-being and human rights issues in Iraq, Zimbabwe, China, and other places far and wide, then why can’t we also place a human rights lense on the current debate about immigration?
I am but one representative from one Spanish speaking country that is part of many others, many of which have histories directly linked with the United States since the days of Spanish rule. I don’t have answers, just many questions. It seems to me that our current solutions are damaging to both the United States and the immigrant population that lives here (regardless of proper documentation or country of origin). In my heart I had hoped that New Orleans, of all U.S. cities, would be the one place that could move beyond the misperceptions and misunderstandings about immigrants that passes for constructive dialogue today. In my heart, I still hope I am right.
Lucas
Tags: latino, latino community, latino community new orleans, latino leadership, latino new orleans, Lucas Diaz b