Coming to America: The Ben Carson Family Immigration Story

Breaking News! Fox News just received exclusive access to historic family documents detailing Dr. Ben Carson’s family’s immigration from the country of Africa to the United States! You won’t find this story on any other news outlet. They don’t have our reliable sources. Previously passed on orally from generation to generation, the story was finally put on paper in the late 1800s by Dr. Carson’s grandfather, Abraham Carson, who fought for the Confederacy in the Civil War. The Carson family’s heroic journey in search of a better life will make you shed a tear and sing, “God Bless America.” Here is their immigration story, as dictated to the family that once employed the entire Carson clan. We’re calling it, “The Cost of Freedom.”

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About two-hundred-fifty years ago my ancestors immigrated to the United States from Africa. They came because the colonial settlers thought that they would enjoy working here so much that they’d do it for free. Well, that and the fact that they knew that America was an exceptional land. They even came to our land to recruit workers! Yep, they sent top-notch recruiters to interview them in person!

Unfortunately the first round of group interviews had to be conducted hastily. When the recruiters arrived on our shores, my people were so excited that they ran around wildly, trying to grab their kids and loved ones. It was pure chaos. There were so many of us who wanted to board ships for the land of opportunity that we didn’t even have to express interest. If you were grabbed, it meant that you were one of the lucky ones. Yes, they just handed you the golden handcuffs! Everyone who wasn’t chosen wept puddles of tears. It was obvious that they were sad that they weren’t chosen because they wailed as if something precious was being taken from them.

Even the chosen ones cried. How could they not? The generous settlers, who had hired the recruiters, had agreed to pay for our travel! I mean, who does that?! And the travel accommodations were well thought out, too. They packed hundreds of us together on each ship, because they knew that we valued community. Also they figured that we would be willing to endure a little discomfort if it meant that more of our people could make the coveted voyage. I imagine too, that they didn’t want to make us feel isolated from each other by giving us private cabins with plenty of space to walk and stretch.

While in route to our new land, our recruiters took special care to help our bodies acclimate to American food. They gave us small portions of their food in lieu of the familiar, comforting foods from our land. Their well-trained medical doctors assured them that giving us very little to eat would protect our health, prevent nausea, and cut costs. (Imagine having to feed thousands of people full meals for weeks on end! Way. too. expensive.)

It didn’t end well, though, for those who couldn’t endure the turbulent voyage without falling ill. Although our recruiters nursed them as best they could, sometimes it wasn’t enough. The weak ones didn’t make it. They never do.

Once in the land of the free, there was finally time for our interviews to be conducted properly. They took place outside, in public, our brawn and beauty on full public display for any potential employers. These men always commented on how helpful and necessary it was, not just see us, but to be able to prod and touch us as well.

Once hired, the language learning process began immediately; we were told to no longer speak in our native tongues. We should speak only the language of our new land, English! This was to make our transition easier, of course, because the longer we spoke our mother tongues, the longer it would take to learn our new language, English! Although it would take awhile for us to master it, they assured us that it was okay: we had the right to remain silent.

Once we could speak confidently, accent-free, we would be permitted to talk, if asked a question by our employers. Learning English through conversation was the most effective way. This is why they didn’t bother to teach us how to either read or write. Well, this and the fact that we really didn’t need these specific language skills since our work was physical in nature.

There were no homes for us upon our arrival at their farms and plantations. They told us that the best way to guarantee that our lodging was to our liking was to build them ourselves. So, we got to chop the wood and construct our quarters, which were small yet suitable for employees who had yet to prove their worth.

Per fraternization policies, our employers instructed us to never marry our co-workers. How would marriage work if one person got promoted to work at another plantation — or worse, demoted? Since most employers didn’t have the budgets to resettle entire families, it was best not to marry at all, and that our children learn from an early age to attach neither to either parents nor siblings, because anyone in the family could get transferred at any time. Instead our employers insisted that their men mate with our women. This, they claimed, would guarantee that our mixed children be up for special consideration at other offices.

The rest of our story is filled with ups and downs, like that of most immigrants, but it’s proof that America is an exceptional land indeed!