When I was at Omega a few weeks ago, I fell into a deep conversation with a woman I met there and we spoke about adoption, jewishness, relationships, etc... I told her the abridged version of my story, including my german origins segueing (sp?) into an american family; she commented that I am an immigrant. I responded back, "yes, that is true."
I'm thinking about that today, that I am a first generation immigrant to america. I have to think about it more in order to write about it more, but I wanted to just state it, and see what that does. Its strange, to say the least, to have this realization only now at 35, to never have had conceptualized that before.
more later...
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Interesting. We're all immigrants to some degree, unless we are Native American, but I can see how this would be something to ponder.
ReplyDeleteI guess the thing that seems startling to me is the conception of immigrant as unknown to me up until now. I grew up in public schools pledging allegiance to the flag and all but I never learned patriotism as though this country and culture were new to me. It feels like it would be different if I had a knowledge that I was the first...maybe not, there's no way to know now.
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