The U.S and Canada are said to be the only two major developed countries to grant automatic citizenship to the offspring of foreign nationals whose parents are in the countries without legal authorization. Regarding the U.S., Rasmussen polling noted on August 19:
Fifty-four percent (54%) of voters disagree with the current federal policy that says a child born to an illegal immigrant here is automatically a U.S. citizen….
It is not just “federal policy.” It is a right that stems from nearly 120 years of legal practice based on the U.S. Supreme Court’s interpretation of the U.S. Constitution’s 14th Amendment. That amendment was ratified in the aftermath of the U.S. Civil War (1861-1865).
Donald Trump’s call for doing away with birthright citizenship for the children of illegal immigrants has once again focused media attention on the idea and led some of his GOP rivals to signal openness to it….
The pressures of an ongoing, mass immigration, particularly from Mexico and Central America – and especially foreign nationals entering and staying without official permission and having U.S. citizen children – has become a contentious issue among many Americans. It is certainly driving this new debate on birthright citizenship.
I want to invite you. While certainly in line with what this blog revolves around overall, tomorrow – on Monday at 8 am UK time/ 3 am ET US – I’ll share a post that is rather different. Here’s my only hint:
In 2006, the U.S. State Department helped organize a mass evacuation of U.S. citizens from Lebanon during the Hezbollah-Israel war. However, currently, there seems no similar urgency on the part of the U.S. to evacuate a far smaller number of U.S. citizens from Yemen. Lawsuits have even been filed challenging the government’s not doing so.
As of April 11, this is what the Department of State has to say:
The page continues in sharing how Americans can perhaps leave courtesy of “third party” assistance, such as India’s:
While I was working yesterday, I did what I normally do: I had Twitter open to the side on my iPad. I check it occasionally. Usually I do so when I stop for a writing break, but sometimes I just glance over at it.
That latter is a bad habit.
What a strange “social media” day yesterday was (to me, anyway).
I don’t like to talk U.S. party politics here, really (as you know, it’s about writing and expats, etc.); but this is interesting in terms of media. And it this isn’t just an Americans’ issue. It’s also an international one given how U.S. domestic politics can resonate around the world:
I don’t watch Fox News with any regularity. The article also addresses Fox’s left-wing opposite number: MSNBC. MSNBC is not available here in Britain, but, similarly, I wouldn’t watch it much either even if it were.
I find both Fox News Channel and MSNBC to be essentially unwatchable yell and snark fests. However, back in the States, my mother must be one of the few who revels in both channels. “I like to hear what both sides are screaming about,” she laughs.
There’s a program on Fox I’ve seen a few times called “The Five.” My Mom likes that one for amusement; but to me, frankly, the less said about it the better. One minute chattering hosts hold forth on ISIS (“The Middle East is so complicated, and Obama won’t do anything!”), or global economics, and after a commercial break on some celebrity’s award show outfit.
My Mom often has MSNBC on as background noise in the kitchen. In my mind, it’s mostly a blur of predictably left of center opinions. A few times, however, I’ve also overheard anchors/ presenters getting so carried away I expected hammer and sickle flags to be unfurled on set at any moment.
From U.S.-based TV news channel offerings – and I know I’m a minority, and I know it has its own issues – I still much prefer CNN. Here in Britain, we see CNN International. Above all, it has Hala Gorani:
Choose your viewing carefully. Also create a list of varied web sites from at home, and from around the world. Spending “quality time” on news is far more worthwhile than sitting through Fox and MSNBC doing their TV impersonations of “talk” radio.
And life’s too short.
Have a good day, wherever you are in the world. :-)
Last week, my mother told me someone had slipped her this coin in change in one of her northeast Pennyslvania local shops. She was annoyed when she got home and discovered it. She then asked me if I could at least maybe identify it:
I was stumped. As I don’t like being easily stumped, I resorted to a Google search on coins and the years “1987” and “1407.” After a few clicks around, I found the source country: Morocco.
When I told my Mom that, she laughed. “We get Canadian coins all the time. Morocco? In backwoods Pennsylvania?”
I shrugged and reminded her, “Increasingly global world nowadays, Mother.” :-)
If you visit my modest site here regularly, you know I write novels revolving around young Americans abroad in the 1990s – in France in particular. Unsurprisingly, I have many French characters, one of whom is a Second World War veteran. Before heading down that literary path, as an academic I’d studied the war and its impacts on post-war Europe.
So please pardon an extremely serious – even depressing – post. For whenever American WWII involvement is cited non-chalantly in present political debates, I take notice. In this case, a former comedian (who now has a chatter show on HBO) tweeted breezily the other day that the U.S. had won WWII without resorting to torture:
We’ll leave aside his Cold War reference. We don’t know much that happened “quietly” in “black spots” and out of sight during the Cold War. But his raising it in that manner merely demonstrates he probably has only cursory knowledge about how the West and the Soviet bloc intelligence services went at each other viciously during those years, including resorting to umbrella poisonings, and in involving themselves (and sometimes succeeding) in overthrowing unfriendly governments, and then supporting torturers within the new governments.
Let’s focus instead on asking about “us” during the Second World War, which is a conflict that in U.S. lore today is now the last “good war.” Yes, millions of Americans served honorably. Yes, they helped liberate Nazi-occupied Europe. Yes, they helped end Japanese militarism. Freedom and democracy in Europe and much of the Pacific today owes a great deal to their sacrifices and accomplishments.
However, all of that did not come about without misery and death on what is now an incomprehensible scale. Two thousand years ago the Roman Tacitus famously wrote of his countrymen, “They make a desert, and they call it peace.” It could well be said that, between 1941-1945, America helped do much the same…. to “win” that former comedian’s version of the Second World War. Just a few examples:
After entering Dachau concentration camp near war’s end, U.S. soldiers herded captured guards together and shot them:
There were other occasions U.S. soldiers murdered captured PoWs, as in Sicily in 1943.
Following the D-Day battle, U.S. Rangers at Pointe du Hoc reportedly shot dead in cold blood French civilians they believed had fought alongside, or had artillery spotted for, the Germans.
In the several months’ long pre-D-Day air campaign that sought to hamper German movement by bombing roads and railways in German-occupied France, it is believed “we” may have also killed some 14,000 French civilians.
President Roosevelt oversaw years of carpet-bombings of Germany and Japan, killing hundreds of thousands of civilians – including children.
President Truman ordered two atomic bombs dropped on cities full of Japanese non-combatants – including children.
Some of us either want us to think, or actually vaguely believe that, the U.S. fought WWII without engaging in “dirty” behavior – as if it were, say, a John Wayne movie. But the problem is even a “John Wayne” movie isn’t even always a “John Wayne” movie. In The Longest Day, the 1962 blockbuster about D-Day starring Wayne among a “cast of thousands,” note that in a brief scene a soldier behind Omaha Beach guns down a group of surrendering Germans…. at least one of whom clearly has his hands up.
My Dad’s due to be discharged from the hospital today. The recuperation, and learning to live with his implant, begins. He has no choice: he’ll have it the rest of his life. (Thank you for reading, commenting, and your “likes” over the months when I’ve written about this. It has made me feel good. :-) )
Even in the midst of worry, and change, some humor can be found. Yesterday, in the labyrinthine (although hardly huge) hospital, after we saw my father rolled by post-surgery on his way to recovery, my mother grabbed the attention of a nurse. She asked the woman – who was a bit younger than me – for directions to the cafeteria.
We had just spoken with the surgeon and he suggested we wait in the cafe for an hour or so until my father was taken to his room and we could see him. All enthusiasm – the staff at this hospital must have taken a customer service course, everyone is so helpful and pleasant – the nurse smiled at us and replied, “I’ll walk you part of the way.”
I thanked her and praised the hospital. I also said if you’ve not been in it much, the layout was confusing. I ended up walking next to her as she directed us down the hallway.
“I love your accent,” she suddenly said to me almost too enthusiastically. “Where are you from?”
Surprised, I remember joking, “Not Pennsylvania.”
Over the years, living in Britain, my accent has changed a bit. I know that. But I’m not usually conscious of it.
Thinking of my Dad, and focusing on where we were headed, my mind was somewhere else. I honestly don’t really remember much of what else she was saying to me. I was strolling alongside her conversing politely about nothing.
We finally reached an elevator. The cafeteria was just downstairs, she said; and when we came back up, she also explained and pointed out, my father would be a floor above us. She asked me again if I understood, and I said I did. When the elevator doors opened, I thanked her again, said goodbye for about the third time, and with my mother and sister, I stepped inside it.
After seeing my Dad an hour or so later, we left the hospital to do a few errands before returning to see him again in the late afternoon. At a supermarket, while my mother and sister shopped for some bits, I walked to a next door liquor store to buy a Christmas present my father had asked me to get on his behalf. He wanted a bottle of Polish vodka for a Polish man who snowplows, mows the lawn, and regularly does odd jobs around their house. The man has practically become a family friend, and I’m glad: he is a huge help to them.
I left the booze (in its American brown paper – “He’s got booze! He’s got booze!” – obvious bag) in the car, walked back into the supermarket and found my mother and sister already at the check-out. They must have been talking in my absence, because the very first words out of my mother’s mouth to me were: “That nurse was flirting with you. They’ll be none of that, thank you! Had she kept it up, I woulda smacked her!”
The woman cashier’s facial expression was priceless. The entire line must’ve heard too. My mother, you also understand, still sounds unmistakably Queens, New York.
At the time, I had kinda thought the nurse was indeed too expressive and arguably excessively friendly. I also hadn’t thought my mother had noticed that; but obviously, uh, Mother had. That has never happened to me before in a hospital – ever.
Have a good Tuesday, wherever you are in the world….