Open Writing

Immigration is a hot topic in many countries around the world, and nowhere more so than in the USA. People fleeing oppression, poverty, and a lack of education and employment opportunities, are drawn irresistibly to a country that everyone believes has everything. And so it has, but that doesn’t guarantee all comers get their fair share.

Life in the US for immigrants has never been easy, and has proved to be the undoing of many aspirants. America loves winners, and can be a hard taskmaster to those who stumble. I suppose I am particularly attuned to the fate of immigrants since I am one, and my wife’s immediate family members were all born in other countries.

For myself, I have no complaints. America and its citizens have been more than generous to me. My assimilation was made easy because I had friends and supporters and a job to come to. Most importantly, I spoke the language, or at least an approximation of it. When I suffered setbacks, circumstances were such that I was able to start over, a rare thing in many countries, including that of my birth, England.

My wife’s parents and their siblings struggled mightily, and their story is typical of many families who came here from Eastern Europe and Russia in the 1920’s. They did whatever they could to make a living and support themselves. Some of them were successful in their endeavors and prospered. Others, like my wife’s mother and father, got by, but not much more than that.

If asked, I’m sure they would have considered it their reward that they were able to raise their two daughters, and to see them educated to a level beyond that which they could have expected in the countries they had left.

My exposure to the lives of immigrants in the USA has not been confined to just my own and my wife’s experiences. Two of the three cleaning ladies I have employed in the past twenty-five years also came here from other countries. Their stories are very different.

The first, Boula, is Albanian, and is probably in her thirties or forties, though it’s difficult to be precise. Hard lives age people prematurely. Albania is noted for being the poorest and most corrupt country in Eastern Europe, and is troubled by ethnic unrest between Muslims and Orthodox Christians. Boula’s family were relatively prosperous Muslims, and her husband had a thriving upholstery business.

They were in the process of building their own house when they became entangled in an ethnic conflict, and subsequently became the target of a vendetta, for which the Albanians are notorious.

Her oldest brother was the first to leave the country for America. Tough and hard working, he quickly built a small, house construction business. He bought land, and was joined later by his younger brother. Boula soon followed, leaving her four young sons temporarily with their father. She spoke no English and had no job skills, so she turned to house cleaning to support herself, though her brothers provided basic living accommodation.

The extended family seemed to be getting a foothold in the US, until misfortune struck again. Boula’s husband suffered a nervous breakdown from his traumatic experiences with the vendetta. He was brought to America with the four boys, and was almost immediately hospitalized for psychiatric treatment. Soon after, Boula’s younger brother was crushed under a tractor and suffered extensive injuries.

Later, I moved to Florida, and though I tried to keep in touch, the language barrier made it impossible. I often think about the family, and hope they were able to make it through their troubles, though at the time the odds seemed against it.

My present cleaning lady, Ione, also fortyish, is from Brazil. She was a teacher there, and is struggling to improve her English so that she can qualify to teach here. In the meantime, she started her own house cleaning business which thrived until the economic downturn. Her husband, also Brazilian, is self employed as a landscaper, and lost many of his clients when the real estate market collapsed.

In the midst of their problems, the bank foreclosed on their house because they couldn’t keep up with the ballooning interest rates. That was two years ago, and they are still trying to negotiate an arrangement that would allow them to keep the house.

Through it all they have remained upbeat and positive about their adopted country. Ione worked hard to qualify for American citizenship, and was successful last year. Meanwhile, some members of the Brazilian community that they are a part of are returning to their homeland because they cannot find work.

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