On a cold January morning here in Vermont, Michael and I took a short walk on the sidewalks wet with fresh snow to the building that houses the Burlington post office and courthouse. In the small entrance hall, there was a metal detector like those at an airport and a line of people trying to get through. In this line were two dozen foreigners who, like the two of us, were just a few steps away from their naturalisation ceremony.
Naturalization is the last step in the long immigration process: after years of collecting documents, filling out forms, exchanging visas, paying fees, going to USCIS offices, waiting and waiting for 5 years to pass since obtaining the Green Card, then waiting another three months. And then there is the interview, the civics test and finally the oath. This process is for the very persevering!
Inside the court, the air had a light, pleasant smell of curry. Everyone was dressed in the finest attire, women in beautiful silk saris, embroidered traditional dresses, earrings that went from nose to mouth; the atmosphere was very festive. The ceremony was short, performed by a bankruptcy judge who, as funny as it may be, spoke beautifully and made everyone feel very welcome: “ America is better for you being here. We are a country founded by foreigners, a mosaic of colors and nationalities that complement each other and make the United States the powerhouse that it is .”
Vermont being a liberal and strongly Democratic state – Sanders and Clinton together won 99.25% of the vote in the March 2016 primary election – was to be expected a warm welcome message. What I didn’t expect was the emotion I felt: not in “becoming an American” but rather in finally having reached the end of a long journey, in having the right to vote, in no longer having the insecurity of living in a strange land.