'Tis of Thee
Flags of red, white and blue; cards of green or gold
I’m increasingly despairing about the wretched State of the (dis)Union, which is to say: I love the United States enough to demand better from her. Patriotism doesn’t mean we can’t think or say such things—rather, it insists we must.
I’m always toughest on those I care about. Like a lover betrayed, I’m angry, heartbroken, disappointed. Should we not expect this field of dreams to actually aspire to its own ideals?
That said, lest I fall in the dark hole of my true crime podcasts and never unplug my earbuds, it’s important these days to be reminded of the good, any good. To see things from a different perspective might help. Fresh eyes, no matter if they too might be aged and requiring readers.
This week, I attended the Naturalization Ceremony for my friend who came here from Tokyo to attend college for architecture and learn English in 1994 and has spent over three decades since ticking off the many arduous and bureaucratic steps from Student Visa to Work Visa, Green Card to, finally at the age of 53, Citizenship. It was time-consuming, difficult, and of course, expensive1. The one industry this process might benefit most is immigration law, as he was encouraged at each of the many steps to have professional counsel, at quite a cost. Mind you, not Gold Card expensive, now that would be crazy. The fast-track $5M plan that Trump proposes for only the finest Russian oligarchs is not an option clearly for your everyday would-be citizen. But it’s the magic sauce that could balance the Federal budget for the first time in 24 years, Trump claims. From this week’s QVC Presidency Address2, the latest flash sale announcement:
With that goal in mind, we have developed in great detail what we are calling the Gold Card, which goes on sale very, very soon. For $5 million we will allow the most successful job-creating people from all over the world to buy a path to U.S. citizenship. It's like the green card, but better and more sophisticated. And these people will have to pay tax in our country. They won't have to pay tax from where they came, the money that they've made, you wouldn't want to do that. But they have to pay tax, create jobs. They'll also be taking people out of colleges and paying for them so that we can keep them in our country, instead of having them being forced out. Number one at the top school as an example, being forced out and not being allowed to stay and create tremendous numbers of jobs and great success for a company out there.
So while we take out the criminals, killers, traffickers and child predators who are allowed to enter our country under the open border policy of these people, the Democrats, the Biden administration, the open border, insane policies that you've allowed to destroy our country, we will now bring in brilliant, hardworking job-creating people. They're going to pay a lot of money, and we're going to reduce our debt with that money.
Wait, tell me more about the illegal aliens behind all the closing doors. You mean, the asylum seekers, the refugees, the seekers, the dreamers? Your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, your grandparents? No, no, silly:
In comparison, under Joe Biden, the worst president in American history, there were hundreds of thousands of illegal crossings a month, and virtually all of them, including murderers, drug dealers, gang members and people from mental institutions and insane asylums, were released into our country. Who would want to do that?
Back here in the land before this Gold War era, there’s just the many tiered system of Green. Green is the color of money: permanent residency status and the ability to work. But today on full-fledged Citizen day, the sky did not comply with the mood of optimism: it was a sad slate gray and despite promises of warmer temps, Newark, New Jersey (of all places) was chilly, drab, and, honestly, felt like what you might imagine from Putin-land. We came on time, just barely (traffic) for an 8:30 am appointment, but were forced to wait outside the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services highrise with dozens of individuals and families, who all surprisingly seemed to be there for the same thing. I had imagined a sweet handful of five or so that we bonded with as they all became citizens together in a little circle of accented camaraderie. Instead, there were too many to talk to, so everyone just shivered single file in a long line waiting for staff to count us off in batches and let us into the lobby to take off our boots and buckles for the security check like the worst possible airport. It did feel like there was a chance we could be flying somewhere, against our will. Like Quantanamo, should we annoy the guard outside, already soured, scolding those who didn’t report to the correct traffic cone for their designated time slot.
Turns out the time slots didn’t matter. They just stagger everyone’s arrival times so we aren’t all swarming the lobby at once, as we were now anyway. No matter the time, we only learned by doing that everyone would be part of the same ceremony, which would not be starting any time soon, pending the arrival of the judge. Hurry up and wait was the theme, which is one of the main mantras I’ve learned from working in government, where maybe everyone’s lost the drive to hurry having been taught enough times that the waiting is the real meat. I was staggered by the crowd size. When we finally made it to the main room, half the hall was designated for would-be citizens to sit in front; back half for guests. One hundred of each. When the ceremony was finally about to start almost two hours after we lined up outside (and including all the people there since 7, 7:30, 8 and even those slated for after us at 9 and 9:30), I asked how often does this happen? The room attendant said usually once a month, sometimes twice, always this full, and this is just for folks who reside in New Jersey. They waited so long for this moment, so why not a few more hours. I was hungry. The restrooms were third-world, but at least there was a water cooler.
Finally, someone at the podium, and more of a welcome than we got from the scolding guy outside. Let the people feel welcome, I kept pleading within, they worked so hard to be here (not to mention right now how they are probably missing work.) One bag check guy had the right attitude and smiled at folks, which I’m sure everyone appreciated. If your job sucks, try to do it with the right attitude and everyone’s day (especially yours) will be better. This welcome was no red carpet roll-out, but it brought tears to my jaded eyes as did the naming of all these countries.
We learned that the 100 new citizens hailed from 37 countries spanning the globe and alphabet from Albania to Uruguay, a world of lands beyond our own President’s geographic capacity. Even some Ukraine in the house, which I clapped a little extra for, and my friend stood up repping Japan. Each with their whole histories, daring to leave their homelands and all they held dear, abiding by the shared belief that THIS PLACE, this insane and breaking—but not broken—place is a better place to be. That is stunning. We welcome them!
The first speaker talked them through the logistics—check your certificates for errors, if you’re a parent, your underage children are now becoming citizens too. A Peruvian mom looks back with love at her child in the audience section, who is beaming with excitement. Please no photos or videos during the ceremony, since this is a Federal space. Enter the judge at last who said what I needed to hear (what everyone deserves to hear):
We are glad to have you.
Yes, we are! Honored, truly. For brief moments I could see our country through their lens. Waving their small flags they were given upon entry. Hands on their hearts for our un-singable anthem of bombs bursting in air. The judge talked about their new obligations that come with this privilege. They would be expected to Vote, to report to Jury Duty, and to Volunteer. Participate! He said he understood their struggle and their sacrifice, the courage and determination, the diligence getting to this point requires. We sure love our hard work in this country. We watched a video, “The Faces of America,” with historic images of immigrants of all ages and ethnicities landing at Ellis Island. There were the Powerpoint slides: Celebrate Citizenship, how to get your passport, sign up for Americorps. Go out and be part of the good you seek, starting in your own community.
My friend Teo, here long enough, and smart enough, to familiarize himself with all the rot and stink of America, still believes in its core intact. “It’s fucked,” he said, but also,
I shouldn’t be an observer any more, I should be a part of it.
It’s time to participate. And apparently prepare to bear arms. The actual oath involves a lot of surprising war-talk. Give us fealty. Renounce your former princes. Die for us.
I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty, of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen; that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform noncombatant service in the Armed Forces of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God.
The coveted certificates are distributed, one by one, new name by name. Part of the fun of this is you can write in a new identity for yourself if you like and really start fresh. Tetsuhito becomes Teo, still Japanese, just sharpened. And then the photo ops begin. A few prime places to pose, in front of flags, in front of the outline of Lady Liberty. The same attendant willing to take our pictures but all eyes closed.
The sky outside had cleared up some. “Do you feel any different?” I asked. No. But now he can jump in fully to this difficult, challenging place, and today that means: navigating the inner-city traffic of Newark without falling in a pothole, getting back to work on time, calling his mom in Japan which is very late at night for her. Japan makes you choose only one country’s affiliation, you can’t be dual. I think that it’s his mom across the world who must feel different now, more separate, more alone, as her son now can no longer linger in the between but will soon have to align. He will get an American passport and forgo his Japanese one next time it comes due.
His American dream is different than mine, because he chose it. It’s real not abstract, and never to be taken for granted.
If only all of us, from the Oval Office on down, were required to take that civics test and recite this oath.
Despite his heavy week as a new citizen, Teo was kind enough to sum up his journey for me, in a timeline. He often doesn’t remember the cost of each steps, so for contemporary reference, I looked up what it might cost now [added in brackets].
Citizenship, a 31-Year Journey:
1994 – I came to Washington State to attend ESL classes and a few college courses at a local University. With Student Visa (applied prior to arriving in the US).
[To apply for a US student (F-1) visa, you’ll need to pay a non-refundable application fee of $185 for the DS-160 form and a $350 SEVIS (Student and Exchange Visitor Information System) fee, totaling around $535.]
1996 – I started my study in Architecture at Universities in WA & OR. Renewed student Visas.
2001 – Graduated with bachelor’s degree in architecture. Applied for OPT Program
[Optional Practical Training (OPT) is a temporary work permit that allows F-1 students to gain work experience in their field of study. As of April 1, 2024, the cost to file an OPT application (Form I-765) is $470 if filed online, and $520 if filed on paper; this includes both regular OPT and STEM OPT extensions.]
2001 – Got a job locally in Portland OR. Working under OPT.
2002 – Got a job in LA. Employer sponsored H1-B Visa, Attorney fee $2500 + application fees. The H-1B visa was difficult for me to get, and it’s even harder now because it’s a lottery if there are too many applications. We’ve lost some talented international employees simply because they didn’t get selected. It is totally idiotic. Before the OPT expires, you have to apply for an H-1B visa. I was able to secure mine because my office had projects in Japan at the time, and they used that as a strong reason to justify hiring me over an American candidate. My office even put on an advertisement at NY Times and compared all applications over mine and submitted the result as part of my application.
[The H-1B visa application process involves several fees, including a $215 registration fee, a $780 filing fee (or $460 for smaller employers), a $500 anti-fraud fee, and potentially an additional $4,000 fee for employers with a large H-1B/L-1 workforce, along with optional premium processing at $2,805.]
2003 – Got a job at my current architecture firm in NY. H1-B Visa renewal-application, attorney fee $2500 + application fees.
[For H-1B visa renewal or extension, the employer needs to pay a $460 filing fee (Form I-129) and a $500 anti-fraud fee for initial and change of employer petitions, plus an optional $2,805 premium processing fee.]
2005 – My office sponsored the extension of my employment. Renewing H1-B Visa, attorney fee $3000 + application fees
2008 – Another office-sponsored extension of my employment. Renewing H1-B Visa, attorney fee $3000 + application fees.
2008 – Applied for Green Card sponsored by my office, who this time funded attorney costs. (Attorney fee normally costs around $10,000 – $12,000 in total for the whole process, based on what my international friends tell me.)
[The fee to get a green card, or permanent resident status, in the United States varies depending on the type of application and eligibility. Form I-131: $630 to request permission to travel outside the US while your green card application is pending; Form I-485: $1,440 to apply for a green card from within the US; Immigrant visa: $220 to cover the costs of processing and issuing the Permanent Residence Card. Additional costs: Family-based applications can cost $2,000–$3,000; Employment-based applications can cost $2,000–$5,000 or more, especially with premium processing.]
2015 – I received my Green Card. Please note, it took me seven years to get my Green Card because I didn’t have an advanced degree such as a master’s degree or doctor’s degree in architecture. If I did, it normally takes two years. From here, Initial Green Card expires in 10 years, option to apply for a citizenship or renew Green Card at that point.
2024 – I applied for citizenship in August. Application fee of $710. I didn’t secure a lawyer this time.
2024 – I had an interview and civics exam on December 14th. Later I received an approval letter.
2025 – Oath Ceremony on March 4th, I became a US citizen.
After this journey to Newark, and learning the reality of what it takes to get that far for each of every 100 people in that endless waiting room, it was harder than ever to listen to our Ruler blabbing and bragging through the Hate of Union on the very same day. I needed a distraction. My eyes couldn’t help but wander to the shiny object behind his podium. What’s that glass and silver glistening thing on the desk in front of House Speaker Mike Johnson?
It’s an ancient inkwell, says this interesting snippet on NPR,
It’s a coin-silver inkstand, and it’s considered to be the oldest surviving artifact of the House of Representatives—dating back 1810-1820, according to the chamber’s archives. Traditionally, before the speaker calls each session of the House to order, the silver inkstand is placed on the raised platform.
Created by J. Leonard, a Washington silversmith and watchmaker, historians say that it has been a part of the House since 1819—but that its origins are mysterious.
The House says the inkstand contains three replacement crystal inkwells and is “adorned on both sides by swags and eagles.” Each foot of the tray has a snake winding around it, representing both unity and wisdom.
The mysterious origins we all have. And winding around these well-travelled feet are the ever-important ideals: unity and wisdom.
May we come together before we fall apart.
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Congrats to Teo and thank you for this deep dive into a process most of us born Americans have no idea about. I doubt many could even pass that civics exam!