Scapegoating the American Dream, GOP misses the boat...
vincerizzo.substack.com
Where do we begin It was time when strangers were welcome here Music would play they tell me the days were sweet and clear It was a sweeter tune and there was so much room That people could come from everywhere — The Immigrant by Neil Sedaka Sedaka’s love-poem about a better time when “strangers were welcome here…” may be a bit overstated. Those of us whose past included a stop at Ellis Island know the hardships faced by our own immigrant ancestors. By definition, I am a second-generation immigrant. My father was born in Italy and arrived in America at age 7. My mother’s father was born in Italy as well, making her second generation as well. Given the sheer number of immigrants that arrived in America during the early 20th century, I doubt that our story is all that unique. The attraction, then as now, continues to be America’s offer of a better life with plentiful opportunities to find work, get an education, and raise a family. These are reasons enough for many immigrants to brave the desperate journey that leads them to our borders. It is the same journey taken many years ago by my father and his mother who braved a voyage that changed my destiny as well as theirs. Their sacrifice over time would provide the next generation with opportunities they could only have dreamed of. Social mobility was and remains the engine driving the
Scapegoating the American Dream, GOP misses the boat...
Scapegoating the American Dream, GOP misses…
Scapegoating the American Dream, GOP misses the boat...
Where do we begin It was time when strangers were welcome here Music would play they tell me the days were sweet and clear It was a sweeter tune and there was so much room That people could come from everywhere — The Immigrant by Neil Sedaka Sedaka’s love-poem about a better time when “strangers were welcome here…” may be a bit overstated. Those of us whose past included a stop at Ellis Island know the hardships faced by our own immigrant ancestors. By definition, I am a second-generation immigrant. My father was born in Italy and arrived in America at age 7. My mother’s father was born in Italy as well, making her second generation as well. Given the sheer number of immigrants that arrived in America during the early 20th century, I doubt that our story is all that unique. The attraction, then as now, continues to be America’s offer of a better life with plentiful opportunities to find work, get an education, and raise a family. These are reasons enough for many immigrants to brave the desperate journey that leads them to our borders. It is the same journey taken many years ago by my father and his mother who braved a voyage that changed my destiny as well as theirs. Their sacrifice over time would provide the next generation with opportunities they could only have dreamed of. Social mobility was and remains the engine driving the