21 Years to My American Dream
and what does it mean to finally be an American
My journey began in 1998.
I was 4 years old at the time, living in Jakarta, Indonesia with my parents.
1998 was a dark year for us... but I’d like to think that year as the biggest blessing in disguise.
There was a big riot & economic turbulence in Indonesia (and through South East Asia) during that year. As a Christian Chinese-Indonesian minority in the country, we were at a huge disadvantage. We lived in fear throughout the year.
I remember one Sunday in May ’98, we were getting ready to go to church, which we cancelled last minute because we just didn’t feel too safe on that particular day. To our horror, a couple hours later, we saw in the news that our church got burned down during service, with many people died.
Or one other time when I was in the car on a busy traffic light at night. Out of nowhere, rioters started going berserk a couple hundred feet in front of us. They started burning cars and buses ahead of us. I don’t remember exactly what happened next, but we managed to get home safely..
Uncle Rudy (my Mom’s oldest brother) was a U.S. Citizen in Maryland at the time. He sponsored us to get U.S. Permanent Residency (also known as Green Card), in order for us (mainly for me at the time) to have a better, safer future. It was through a government immigration program called Family Reunion, which basically allows U.S. Citizens to sponsor their relatives/parents to receive permanent residency in the U.S.
“1998 was a dark year for us… but I’d like to think that year as the biggest blessing in disguise.”
We didn’t hear anything back until 2008. That’s 10 years, to be clear.
When people nowadays say that there is a “queue” to receive legal U.S. permanent residency, this is the period they are referring to.
One day, we received a letter from the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS). It basically stated that our turn has finally arrived for our application to be processed.
This process took another 5 years.
I moved to Iowa for college in 2012 with 2 big luggage and a backpack. Those, and an ever bigger dream.
“We didn’t hear anything back for 10 years.”
But it’s like God had planned everything all this time…
We (my parents, sister, and I) finally received our legal U.S. Permanent Residency the month of June, 2013. To other people, a Green Card might look just like a normal driver’s license, but to us, especially to me, it was a one-way golden ticket to my American Dream, after 15 years of waiting.
The following 5 years from 2013–2018 were probably the most difficult time for my family, especially my parents.
As much as they would love to move to the United States permanently, our financial condition was nothing near from making that desire feasible. So in order for my parents & my sister to maintain their green cards, they had to visit the U.S. at least once every six months for about a month or so during each visit. You can imagine the financial toll this was for them… while they kept supporting me financially through college.
But God is good. We somehow managed to go through this grueling routine for the next 5 years.
“To other people, a Green Card might look just like a normal driver’s license, but to us, especially to me, it was a one-way golden ticket to my American Dream, after 15 years of waiting.”
Fast forward to January 2018
I already graduated from college with a Bachelor of Architecture degree the year before, and I have relocated to Los Angeles. My parents & sister came to visit per the usual, like what they had been doing since 2013.
Going through airport border control had always been the most stressful experience for my parents the past 5 years, since there was always a fear looming over us that the officers would revoke their permanent residency status & take away their Green Cards.
Well, that fear sort of came true during their visit this time.
They were told that if they left the United States this time, they would lose their permanent residency status, because it’s been 5 years since we had received our green cards, yet they hadn’t moved to the U.S. permanently. We felt like the world stumbled before us on that day.
We were most worried about my sister, since the whole point of applying green cards back in 1998 was for me and my (future) sister at the time. So what was supposed to be a 4-week trip to the U.S., suddenly became a permanent move to the U.S. for my sister. We couldn’t let her go back to Indonesia, because that would mean losing her Green Card. We scrambled to find a community college for her in California, leased an apartment, took care of all documentation & insurances, and shipped all her clothes from Indonesia.
My parents went back to Indonesia the following month, February 2018. They ended up returning their green card, thus losing their permanent residency in the U.S.
There was a sense of relief that my sister & I were already “safe” and wouldn’t lose our green cards, since we’re both here in the U.S…but there was also a deep sense of sorrow & sadness in the air, since my my parents were not able to live close to their children anytime soon.
“They were told that if they left the United States this time, they would lose their permanent residency status.”
But 2018 was also a huge milestone for me. I was eligible for naturalization to become a U.S. Citizen, since I had held my green card for 5 years and I had been physically here the whole time!
And so in May 2018, EXACTLY 20 years since Uncle Rudy started the petition in May 1998, I applied for U.S. Citizenship.
It was probably one of the most exciting times of my life. I could see that my American Dream was so close. After all the struggles & challenges we all had been through, I felt so ready. I felt like I earned and deserved it.
2019 came.
I was getting ready for my civics test & my interview before I could get sworn to be a U.S. Citizen. One last challenge, one last threshold.
The day came. I took a half-day off from work, and I drove to the USCIS office in San Jose, California (I had moved to Northern California from LA back in 2018).
A few hours later, I came out of that building, beaming with joy, speechless... The sky was dark & pouring rain, but I was the complete opposite. I passed the test & interview, and I was thoroughly exhilarated. I was relieved & overjoyed with the thought that all that’s left for me was to get sworn. I couldn’t wait for that day to come faster.
AND THEN IT HAPPENED — Thursday, March 21st 2019.
It was the day I had been waiting for 21 years.
Uncle Rudy drove down from Sacramento (he lived there to this day, not in Maryland anymore), my sister came from Pleasant Hill (where she went to college), and I invited some of my church & work friends to celebrate with me.
The day couldn’t get any better, until it did.
Out of hundreds of people being sworn, I was the only one getting hand-picked to read the Pledge of Allegiance on the stage, in front of everyone, as part of the ceremony. It was the first time I ever said those words, and the most surreal moment.
“And it finally happened — Thursday, March 21st 2019… the day I had been waiting for 21 years.”
So, what does it mean to be an American, you ask me?
For me, being an American is almost like a journey, not an end result. It’s a process, not a sudden realization.
Being an American is not about privileges that non-American do not have. It’s not about holding an American passport.
Being an American is not about simply being able to say “I’m American.”
Being an American is not about identifying one’s race.
It’s also not about identifying where one came from, and one’s particular characteristics or lifestyle.
To me, being an American is an idea. The American Dream is open to all, regardless of your nationality. An idea that allows one to be proud, to always strive for better, and to be free. To work hard, but to also enjoy life to the fullest.
To me, being an American is being able to hope & dream, even if it requires sacrifices & windy road.
The 21-year journey I went through was about hope. It was about struggle, challenges, and pain… but above everything, it was about hope.
I was extremely lucky to get the result I had hoped at the end, but that doesn’t mean I have achieved my American Dream more successfully than other people who are still fighting, hoping, and dreaming.
You see, that’s the exciting part.
That’s when I’m the most proudest being able to call myself American.
