As is usually the case, I am completely incapable of writing anything thoroughly heartfelt, thought provoking and pofound. Yet, my usual forte of dark and cynical somehow feels inappropriate for this day, so bear with me.
It is a beautiful summer day and a celebration of the birth of a beautiful place.
America is divided. People are at each other's throats. There are plenty of reasons to be concerned. Yet, I am optimistic that we will get through this current insanity and emerge from it a better place than we were before. It will require serious effort in order to stop the onslaught of marxism in our government and, especially, educational institutions. It will also require serious effort in order to stop the onslaught of some of the particualry brain dead branches of populism, isolationism and personality cult that are popping up with alarming regularity. All of these are largely propagated by a diversified group of grifters whose time in the limelight has an expiration date. The American experiment will outlast them all.
There is work to be done, but America is fundamentally a good place. That is not easily erased.
Whenever I feel despair creeping up (usually after checking up on current events), I think back to my family's immigrant story.
It is a very uncomplicated story and I know of so many other people coming here from different parts of the world whose American immigrant experience is eerily similar.
We came here with nothing beyond a bag of clothing for each person and a few hundred dollars of cash squirreled away from selling our posessions in the Soviet Union. We tried to send out several packages with our books (we had a somewhat etensive library back in Moscow that was precious to us), but most of those were stolen my Russian customs. Whoever has our books now, I hope they are enjoying them. I have been slowly trying to rebuild it, piece by piece. Books matter to me.
Whatever we were able to bring with us was not much for a family of five. Getting out of the Soviet Union was rough. Going into this new world, new culture and new society was scary. We knew nothing of what we were going to face and we were filled with apprehension. We came here as refugees. There was nowhere to go back. We had no intention of ever going back. We came here in 1991 and none of us or our children ever set foot back in Russia. I plan to keep that way.
Immigration was hard. Adjustment was hard. America made it a lot less hard that it could have been. That goes for both American government and American people. Both welcomed us with open arms. We were fortunate to have distance family in the US who rented an apartment for us and paid the security deposit. We had a place to sleep and air to breath. Beyond that, every opportunity to succeed was available to us.
The government helped us during the first few months while we all found some sort of an employment. We did not like to be on government assistance and were done with that quickly.
We studied. We worked hard. We did what we could. We moved furniture, washed dishes, cleaned houses and distributed restaurant flyers until there was skilled labor we were qualified for.
When I came here, I was high school age. My brother was starting out in college. Our adaptation was pretty quick. It was undoubtedly much harder for our parents who had the entire weight of responsibility on them. I am almost the same age now as my father was when we came here. Maybe now I can finally comprehend what my parents went through. They might be paying for it now the way their health is. I am told Parkinson's disease is a consequence of living an unhealthy lifestyle when you are younger, so there is a good chance my mother's current condition stems from that. Or something else. We can't know.
Still, as hard as immigration was, I can't help but realize that every time I look back and think about it, America was incredibly gracious to us. It only wanted one thing from us: to work hard. Maybe that's what is truly required to make immigrants into Americans. The ethos of working hard and reaping the rewards of your own labor is an essential part of the idea that is America.
I leave you with a short piece written by George Friedman back in 2016. It is as true today as it was back then. He truly has the gift of the word. If you have not reas his book "The Calm Before The Storm", I highly recommend it. https://amzn.to/4buSBAn
Happy Fourth of July!
Two hundred and forty years ago today, the American people were declared to be a unique and independent nation, distinct from all others. This was the conception of the people, but the sovereign government of the United States was born in battle. The revolution lasted eight years and about 25,000 died – a higher percentage of the population than died in World War II. This led over time to the Constitution, which founded the regime that governed the American people.
It was a unique regime because it did not trust politicians. The founders feared the politicians’ desire for power. To solve this problem, they founded a regime so unwieldy, so inefficient, that very little could get done. Their vision of America was a country of businesses and farms, churches and societies. They envisioned a nation whose heart was not in Washington – an artifice invented to hold politicians – but in private life. The life of farmers, businessmen, clergymen and eccentrics. Few other governments were founded with such fear of governance.
I recently told a foreign friend that his country has excellent relations with Washington, but it needs a better relationship with America. Many of our non-American friends live in countries where the political capital is the heart of the country. That isn’t the case in the United States. The American revolution was fought to make certain the government was weak and society strong and free. Our founders feared strong presidents and contrived to cripple them before they took office by confronting them with two Congressional houses run on different rules and a Supreme Court. Very little can get done, yet America flourishes.
When you marvel at our candidates for president, bear in mind that the U.S. president is among the weakest heads of government in the world. The sacrifice of 25,000 was to make sure tyranny would not rule this country. If the price was political paralysis, it was a small price to pay.
