Melting Pot Was Fine, But Salad Bowl Tastes Better

Back in 1880’s, approximately 25 million Europeans immigrated to the U.S.

Germans, Italians, Jews, Greeks, Hungarians, Russians and other Slavs, the majority of which were younger than 30, boarded up and traveled across the ocean in search for a better life. Their mother Europe was impoverished. While this age has seen the bloody rise of young and optimistic national states, the imperialism that had made Europe what it was was boiling. The First World War would see it shattered to pieces, along with millions of lives. The young people who took the ships a couple of decades earlier wouldn’t witness this. They would survive, even through great economic crises that were to come in the 1930’s.

Even then there were American conservatives, the so-called nativists, who frowned at this flood of immigrants, fearing their lack of adaptability, or even more, their unwillingness to assimilate into whatever they considered to be the one true American framework. The multicultural soup or the melting pot, they claimed, actually turned into a dumping ground. The Immigration Act of 1924 severely limited the number of European and African immigrants, and banned Asian immigrants from entering the U.S. altogether. Asian peoples were therefore proclaimed incompatible. They didn’t pursue happiness in a desirable way, the act seemed to imply. Newcomers even lacked qualifications for breathing American air, it also implied, introducing literacy test for the few ones granted the access to American ground. The act’s purpose was “to preserve the ideal of U.S. homogeneity”.

The American identity has been comprised of so many different cultures that came to seek freedom and conduct their quest for happiness, in their own terms, at times when the rest of the world was quite a disadvantageous place to do so.

This American pot has ever since been a place where all of the cultures melt together. However, it has also aspired to grow into a salad bowl, where the ingredients would never get deprived of their identity, because their respective identities don’t threaten or jeopardize one another. They hoped to become Americans without having to break up with their roots, their past, who they were or what they were trying to become.

Cultural differences shouldn’t make people different, nor should they imply their subservience to one another. “It does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods, or no god. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.” wrote Thomas Jefferson.

Today of all times no one can say that America is a perfect place to abide, or to migrate to. No one can claim that it succeeded in conquering its own political, racial, cultural and other demons, nor that it is the safest place to live. But we should still be allowed to say that it is a place which aspires and struggles to become safe, liberal, and respectable, just like the people who inhabit it. Having said that, there are certain people or entities that want to bridge the gap by eliminating racial profiling, stereotypes and misconceptions about certain cultures in America. Companies like Beyond Exchange, is a great example (beyondculturalevents.com). Their International Cultural Exchange Program is just what the country needs, even more now, as the oneness that the country boosts about, is diminishing in the land of immigrants. Programs such as the cultural exchange program from Beyond Exchange allow participants from diverse cultural background to represent their unique cultures, and show the Americans who they really are, and bring about more awareness. This way the Americans can have a better understanding of the different cultures, and people can start trusting each other in this country, before making an opinion on false or no knowledge at all.

The pursuit of happiness has always been an unalienable right. Maybe we should finally stop considering our ways of pursuing it better than anyone else’s.

 

Jelena Ciric

Notes From An Immigrant Wanna-Be

This blog is my personal space. As the characters roll down the page, they open up my intimate niche where I can express myself freely.

After I press “Publish”, the process of waiting for reactions begins. Some of those reactions will take a form of approval that comes with likes, comments, shares, but there will also be angry, hateful, scornful reactions that are supposed to make me feel uncomfortable and stop my pen from writing. Or at least, to keep my thoughts to myself rather than making them public.

Internet is a realm where nobody can ban me or tell me that I am undesired, or inappropriate. Everybody is welcome to contribute, for better or worse, in one way or another. Internet is a place where I make use of my unalienable right to say what I mean, head-on and fearlessly. No hate can shake my determination to continue doing so. Three options for you there: you can either accept me for who I am, or you can hate or look down on me for it, or you can downright ignore me.
Let’s dive into my story, then.

A year ago I made friends with an American girl through Facebook. After some time, we found we had a lot in common. She was a passionate cat lover. I was into opera (yes, one can live in Eastern Europe, be a male and still love opera), and kind of infected her with the “disease”, so much so that she gave it a try and was enthralled by it.

We fell in love, entered into innumerable hours-long Skype confessions, conversations and ramblings. She was the first person ever to instantly understand everything I said, even with a language barrier between us. According to her, I was the first man ever not to get bored with her passion for cats.

Naturally, a vis-a-vis encounter was the next logical step. As I live in a country where employment rates have freezed below the zero point (I myself am also unemployed), I had no money to embark on a long and expensive journey. She wanted to send money to me to go to U.S. so we could get married there. However, in the eyes of American policy, I was just another poor immigrant looking for an opportunity to sneak in.

Not to speak of my embarrassment when I set out to explain her that I was not fishing for the Green Card. She never asked me this question, but I felt the obligation to make things clear, just in case.

So she came to Europe for the first time in her life, to see me.
Not much has changed since then. We’ve been engaged for two years now (four years since we started our online relationship), and counting. It’s getting even harder, if not impossible for me, as a Muslim, to go there. Even student scholarships are not an option for a 33-year old.

Last year her grandmother died, and I, her fiance, couldn’t be there to help her through the grief.
She crossed the pond three times to see me. She got interested in my way of life, my personal history, my childhood spent in a communist country, so different and so unfathomable to her. I learned everything about her Nordic ancestry, as well as modern and fast American lifestyle. I got to meet her parents through Skype, and they accepted me, never questioning my intentions.

Two small human beings have crossed the cultural boundaries. A thing that a great state such as hers cannot, or doesn’t want to do.

Anonymous