An Atrómitos Series
Worried. Tired. Frustrated.
Xenophobia in America
September 13, 2023
Kate McNulty, MA, CHC
I was disturbed by NPR’s article, “Government’s own experts found ‘barbaric’ and ‘negligent’ conditions in ICE detention.”
I’m a first-generation American.
When the opportunity arose for my paternal grandparents to flee with their children to America, away from their financial struggle and the fear they were living with, they took it without hesitation. My grandmother, in particular, could no longer tolerate their living conditions, having been deeply traumatized by the savagery she had witnessed and the fear she lived with for her children’s lives. Her stories of my father screaming from his crib as violence tore through their neighborhood disturbed me as a listener. I can only imagine how tormented she must have felt.
My father was an older child when they moved to America, to San Antonio, Texas, where the local immigrant community took a big role in supporting them. My grandparents were profoundly thankful for the support because starvation and homelessness were real possibilities without it, and finding employment was difficult without that community support. With the community’s help, they eventually purchased a small convenience store and made ends meet. To this day, my father refers to the shop as a bodega rather than a convenience store; this is what it was called in their neighborhood, and my delicate grandmother (read: fierce bull) ruled the shop.
In due course, my father graduated from high school, joined the U.S. Coast Guard, and dedicated seven years to serving our country. As a veteran, he was able to use the G.I. Bill to attend college and graduate school, resulting in a master’s degree in electrical engineering. He went on to get married and start a very successful business.
His success allowed my parents to raise me and my older brothers in a wealthy Connecticut town. Very rarely, growing up, did I think about being first generation. It seemed like my family and father were like everyone else’s.
It wasn’t until I was twelve that I had a little “oh” moment.
The Master of Disguise
We had traveled with my father to San Antonio to see where he grew up and tend to my grandad’s grave. I don’t remember where we were when I noticed it first, but suddenly, my dad had an accent. And not a small accent, but a big Texas twang! He sounded weird to me, cartoonish, and I made a comment about it. I was told that if you put him in his homeland, he’d sound different there, too.
My dad was a chameleon.
What he learned coming to the U.S. was that to succeed, you had to fit in or, at the very least, pass under everyone’s radar. In Texas, that meant being as close to the prototypical boy-next-door as humanly possible and not the foreign kid whose family only survived because the community stepped up to help them.
My dad is naturally an affable man. He’s handsome, smart, and has always been these things. His need to keenly observe his surroundings as an immigrant impacted how he perceived the world and proceeded in it. In his case, this hyper-surveillance, followed by adaptability, made him extremely successful.
My father was born in 1941 in Manchester, England.
During World War II, the Nazis heavily bombed the area he lived in, and my grandparents witnessed enormous violence and tragedy. The fear that they would be the next to die or be gruesomely injured haunted them daily. When they had the chance in the 1950s to relocate, they took it.
It’s saddening that my father’s first experience in this country was a loss of himself, his English accent–his way of communicating. Being young enough not to squabble over the necessity of it and yet old enough to learn a very deep, if unconscious, lesson from it, seems inimitably sad. This expectation – really, demand – that people fully assimilate, thereby giving up important pieces of their culture, is a loss for them personally and us. It’s a lost opportunity to learn about other cultures and grow from such opportunities.
How Immigrants Benefit the U.S.
For many years, I handled immigration casework in a congressional office, becoming very much aware of why people leave their homelands. The main reason people immigrate to the U.S. is to reunite with family. Other reasons include fleeing violence, environmental disasters, poverty, and employment or education opportunities. Most immigrants are legally in the U.S., and many become U.S. Citizens.
Immigration unquestionably has positive economic effects in the United States. And, yes, immigrants pay taxes, even if they are here in an unauthorized capacity. Immigrants also have significant positive social and civic impact; from the introduction to communities of food, art, music, religion, and sports to volunteering and participating in government. Did you know that immigrants and children of immigrants make up 15% of the current Congress? That’s 81 Members of Congress.
Despite these significant contributions to our county, as a first-generation American and a staff person to a Member of Congress, I’ve seen an evolving and escalating xenophobia, often driven by a mistaken belief that immigrants are a drain on taxpayer-funded resources and services. Even though this is not true, and in fact, whether authorized or unauthorized, immigrants have a positive impact on the country and their communities, we continue to see a push to stop immigration.
A Brief History Lesson
The U.S. has a history dating back to 1790 with the Naturalization Act of discrimination in immigration policy. In 1790, you had to be a “free white person.” In 1875, limitations were set on migration from China and, later, other Asian countries. In the early 20th century, limitations on certain European nations were put in place to encourage mostly immigration from northern and western European countries.
Subsequent laws began allowing temporary protected status for nationals fleeing armed conflict or natural disaster, allowing refugees facing extraordinary conditions to remain in the U.S. until it was safe to return. The tide began to turn a little bit with DACA – the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals – in 2012. But with the change in administration in 2016, the country swiftly and furiously returned to a highly xenophobic take on immigration. Sadly, the sentiments continue through yet another administration.
Fear of Diversity
Xenophobia is the fear and hatred of anything strange or foreign. What is it that people fear? In my experience, this fear and hatred comes from an unfounded belief that anything different is bad. It is fueled by a misbelief that anything or anyone different will likely result in a loss – real or perceived, actual or possible. Loss of jobs. Loss of power. Loss of culture. Loss of identity. In fact, none of this is true. It is the differences in people, in our communities, that make us richer – economically, culturally, socially, and politically.
I’m horrified by what we’ve seen happen across the country; swap out immigrant for human and see if you’re not horrified too.
Kate McNulty, MA, CHC
Kate McNulty spent more than a decade helping nonprofit organizations learn the intricacies of the federal funding process to increase their chances of success in what continues to be a highly competitive market. Kate has a strong background in grant writing as well as an uncanny ability to identify growth opportunities.
An Atrómitos Series
Worried. Tired. Frustrated.
Xenophobia in America
September 13, 2023
Kate McNulty, MA, CHC
I was disturbed by NPR’s article, “Government’s own experts found ‘barbaric’ and ‘negligent’ conditions in ICE detention.”
I’m a first-generation American.
When the opportunity arose for my paternal grandparents to flee with their children to America, away from their financial struggle and the fear they were living with, they took it without hesitation. My grandmother, in particular, could no longer tolerate their living conditions, having been deeply traumatized by the savagery she had witnessed and the fear she lived with for her children’s lives. Her stories of my father screaming from his crib as violence tore through their neighborhood disturbed me as a listener. I can only imagine how tormented she must have felt.
My father was an older child when they moved to America, to San Antonio, Texas, where the local immigrant community took a big role in supporting them. My grandparents were profoundly thankful for the support because starvation and homelessness were real possibilities without it, and finding employment was difficult without that community support. With the community’s help, they eventually purchased a small convenience store and made ends meet. To this day, my father refers to the shop as a bodega rather than a convenience store; this is what it was called in their neighborhood, and my delicate grandmother (read: fierce bull) ruled the shop.
In due course, my father graduated from high school, joined the U.S. Coast Guard, and dedicated seven years to serving our country. As a veteran, he was able to use the G.I. Bill to attend college and graduate school, resulting in a master’s degree in electrical engineering. He went on to get married and start a very successful business.
His success allowed my parents to raise me and my older brothers in a wealthy Connecticut town. Very rarely, growing up, did I think about being first generation. It seemed like my family and father were like everyone else’s.
It wasn’t until I was twelve that I had a little “oh” moment.
The Master of Disguise
We had traveled with my father to San Antonio to see where he grew up and tend to my grandad’s grave. I don’t remember where we were when I noticed it first, but suddenly, my dad had an accent. And not a small accent, but a big Texas twang! He sounded weird to me, cartoonish, and I made a comment about it. I was told that if you put him in his homeland, he’d sound different there, too.
My dad was a chameleon.
What he learned coming to the U.S. was that to succeed, you had to fit in or, at the very least, pass under everyone’s radar. In Texas, that meant being as close to the prototypical boy-next-door as humanly possible and not the foreign kid whose family only survived because the community stepped up to help them.
My dad is naturally an affable man. He’s handsome, smart, and has always been these things. His need to keenly observe his surroundings as an immigrant impacted how he perceived the world and proceeded in it. In his case, this hyper-surveillance, followed by adaptability, made him extremely successful.
My father was born in 1941 in Manchester, England.
During World War II, the Nazis heavily bombed the area he lived in, and my grandparents witnessed enormous violence and tragedy. The fear that they would be the next to die or be gruesomely injured haunted them daily. When they had the chance in the 1950s to relocate, they took it.
It’s saddening that my father’s first experience in this country was a loss of himself, his English accent–his way of communicating. Being young enough not to squabble over the necessity of it and yet old enough to learn a very deep, if unconscious, lesson from it, seems inimitably sad. This expectation – really, demand – that people fully assimilate, thereby giving up important pieces of their culture, is a loss for them personally and us. It’s a lost opportunity to learn about other cultures and grow from such opportunities.
How Immigrants Benefit the U.S.
For many years, I handled immigration casework in a congressional office, becoming very much aware of why people leave their homelands. The main reason people immigrate to the U.S. is to reunite with family. Other reasons include fleeing violence, environmental disasters, poverty, and employment or education opportunities. Most immigrants are legally in the U.S., and many become U.S. Citizens.
Immigration unquestionably has positive economic effects in the United States. And, yes, immigrants pay taxes, even if they are here in an unauthorized capacity. Immigrants also have significant positive social and civic impact; from the introduction to communities of food, art, music, religion, and sports to volunteering and participating in government. Did you know that immigrants and children of immigrants make up 15% of the current Congress? That’s 81 Members of Congress.
Despite these significant contributions to our county, as a first-generation American and a staff person to a Member of Congress, I’ve seen an evolving and escalating xenophobia, often driven by a mistaken belief that immigrants are a drain on taxpayer-funded resources and services. Even though this is not true, and in fact, whether authorized or unauthorized, immigrants have a positive impact on the country and their communities, we continue to see a push to stop immigration.
A Brief History Lesson
The U.S. has a history dating back to 1790 with the Naturalization Act of discrimination in immigration policy. In 1790, you had to be a “free white person.” In 1875, limitations were set on migration from China and, later, other Asian countries. In the early 20th century, limitations on certain European nations were put in place to encourage mostly immigration from northern and western European countries.
Subsequent laws began allowing temporary protected status for nationals fleeing armed conflict or natural disaster, allowing refugees facing extraordinary conditions to remain in the U.S. until it was safe to return. The tide began to turn a little bit with DACA – the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals – in 2012. But with the change in administration in 2016, the country swiftly and furiously returned to a highly xenophobic take on immigration. Sadly, the sentiments continue through yet another administration.
Fear of Diversity
Xenophobia is the fear and hatred of anything strange or foreign. What is it that people fear? In my experience, this fear and hatred comes from an unfounded belief that anything different is bad. It is fueled by a misbelief that anything or anyone different will likely result in a loss – real or perceived, actual or possible. Loss of jobs. Loss of power. Loss of culture. Loss of identity. In fact, none of this is true. It is the differences in people, in our communities, that make us richer – economically, culturally, socially, and politically.
I’m horrified by what we’ve seen happen across the country; swap out immigrant for human and see if you’re not horrified too.
Kate McNulty, MA, CHC
Kate McNulty spent more than a decade helping nonprofit organizations learn the intricacies of the federal funding process to increase their chances of success in what continues to be a highly competitive market. Kate has a strong background in grant writing as well as an uncanny ability to identify growth opportunities.