My mother often urged me to “watch and learn.” I suppose that hearing this command turned me into an inveterate observer. I tend to be the quiet person who scans a room looking for insights into the human experience. I became so good at watching and concurrently learning that my mama eventually had to chide me for staring too long at people and making them feel uncomfortable. Looking at the world around me is a habit that follows me wherever I go. 

I recently attended a lovely baby shower and brunch for a former student and because I did not really know anyone there I found myself lapsing into my habit of taking in the room and just looking at the interactions of the women there. It was a lively group made up mostly of relatives who seemed to be quite excited about being together in such a lovely setting. I overheard conversations that convinced me that many of the guests were fellow educators like myself. They were discussing the difficulties of the last few years and many were considering alternative vocations given the high level of anxiety that seems to be so much a part of teaching these days. The autonomy and creativity of each classroom has all too often been replaced with scripts and canned programs that feel uncomfortable to veterans who have always adapted to the needs of individuals students rather than relying on a single plan. 

I chose not to interact with the many conversations because it was more interesting to simply listen like a fly on the wall. Only now and again did someone move near me to find out who I was and why I was there. In most cases they wanted to know how retired life was going for me and whether I thought that they might enjoy such a state as well. I surprised them by announcing that my days of freedom had been brief because I very soon found myself bored by a lack of real meaning in my days. I took on part time teaching and tutoring gigs because being with students seems to be necessary for my well being. I am revitalized by the teaching experience and luckily now I am totally my own master in designing the coursework for those with whom I work. My lessons are individualized to the micro level. 

Not all of the conversations were about education although that topic dominated. There were reunions of people who had not seen each other for a time and sharing of memories from days past when they were younger. The group was a mixture of generations from the grande dame grandmother to the toddlers playing impishly with one another while their mothers were distracted. Most of the people were descended from recent Spanish speaking immigrants so the conversations flowed easily from one language to another. The younger members tended to be highly educated and living the American dream in terms of lifestyle. Both their English and their Spanish was impeccable, with not a scintilla of an accent. Their ability to flow easily from one language to another had made them exceptionally gifted employees with a skill that few long time Americans possess. 

I thought of how quickly the sons and daughters of immigrants adjust to being citizens of the United States. In only a few years most of them had become indistinguishable from every other American. Each of them provides the workforce with skills and understanding of people that are incredibly valuable to our nation. Their parents or grandparents came here wanting better lives, sacrificing to help their children find success, and the results have been stunning. I wondered how many who scream that immigrants are our biggest problem have any kind of knowledge about how much they provide to the enhancement of our country. 

Just as my grandparents came to the United States barely able to speak English and only educated enough to provide intensely labor bound work, many of the people at that shower had come to being from the sweat and hard work of elders who had a dream for their families. Within a single generation the children of such enterprising people become an integral part of the bedrock upon which this nation depends. My mother and her siblings were model citizens in every sense of the word. Their children rose to the middle class quickly and their grandchildren have become even more successful. Nobody would even guess that in the beginning my grandparents were derided and mistreated simply because their accents were foreign and their appearance was judged as lowly and lacking. 

I enjoyed that shower so much because it spoke so loudly about the beauty and possibility that comes from bringing people from all over the world to our shores. I saw the immigrant story in all of its glory and remembered that I too came from such a legacy. Instead of complaining about people who want to join us, we should be celebrating their arrival and welcoming them to the good fortune that we enjoy only because someone in our ancestral line had the courage to begin a new life in a country with boundless opportunities. This is who we are and what it means to be an American. Isn’t that beautiful!