FROG HOSPITAL - November 26, 2018
By Fred Owens
Immigration to America was Never Easy
It's possible to become an American, but it's never been easy. Newcomers
were given the worst jobs and lived in the worst neighborhoods. They
were mocked and abused and worse, People said they looked funny and they
couldn't speak English and their food smelled awful. People said much
worse than that, but over a period of time, we got used to them, and
they became like us, and we became a little like them. But it was always
difficult.....It was never easy.
There is
a trouble at the San Ysidro crossing between San Diego and Tijuana. We
can let the migrants in or we can turn them back. We can grant them
asylum or we can put them on a plane back to Honduras. I'm not proposing
a solution, but I do want to pose a context. Immigration has never been
easy. There was no golden age when newcomers were welcomed with
blessings and open arms. It was always tough. The Yankee kids beat up
the Irish kids until the Irish kids became cops and then the Irish kids
beat up the Jewish kids, and so it went. The Chinese were treated worse,
and the African slaves worst of all. But it was the promise of a better
life that made it happen -- those long, harrowing journeys and those
hopes.
And we can do better. We can get better
at welcoming strangers to join our culture. They can become like us and
we can become a little like them. It just takes time. It starts out
rough and then it gets smoother.
But one
thing is sure. The trouble at the border is a difficult situation and
Trump will make it worse. He will take a problem and turn it into a
crisis. He will take a crisis and turn it into a war. There must be a
way for calmer people to act and prevent a crisis and a war.
Thanksgiving and Driving Through Malibu
We
had a swell Thanksgiving with Laurie's family in Manhattan Beach. I sat
in the TV room and watched football games with Sam. Sam is Laurie's
brother's wife's brother. Got that? Sam was born in Japan and came to
California as a child. He is eighty years old
I would
guess and he pretends he doesn't speak English. The first six years with
Sam we watched the game together in silence, in full appreciation of
the calm atmosphere while the other relatives screamed with joy and
laughter in the living room.
But this year Sam
and I began to talk. He offered me a beer, and went to fetch it. He
offered me some edamame beans which he had cooked himself. His English
vocabulary is very limited but good enough, and his smile is genuine, so
we are friends now. Actually we were always friends even during the
silent years, enjoying a mutual love for Beer and Football.
(Regarding the football game -- I did actually rise to do a few kitchen chores, cleared dirty plates, took out the trash, etc.)
On Friday after Thanksgiving we visited my
sister and my son and two of my nieces in Venice Beach. We walked to a
restaurant and had brunch.
Then we drove up the coast through
Malibu. The Malibu fire is out, but the blackened hill sides come right
down to the highway and go on for ten miles and more. It will grow back
if it ever rains. The homes destroyed and the lives lost -- I'm glad we
saw it. We got back to Santa Barbara by dinner time and ate leftover
turkey and pumpkin pie.
Happy Thanksgiving,
Fred
