The recent immigration crackdowns on illegal aliens has brought to mind so many memories of my own family history. There are darn few of us in this country that can boast the privilege of a heritage that goes back more than three or four generations before we find the roots to our family tree growing in another country.
One of the things in my possession, that I am most proud to have, is the immigration papers, original documents and citizenship papers that my great-grandparents and, in several cases, great-great grandparents, worked so hard for and earned the right to obtain.
All my ancestors on my mother's side of the family came through Ellis Island from Sweden during, what my mother laughingly calls, "the Swede stampede." On my grandfather's side, his grandparents and their children came to the United States through the auspice of the Shaker community during their efforts to recruit new converts.
Olaf Larson/Olson, his wife Martha Lindstrom Olson, six children and extended family members, 28 in all, arrived in the United States and settled in the Shaker Village at Pleasant Hill, Ky., Oct. 2, 1868, according to the records of that once thriving and now historical community. The family was required to live and contribute to the Shaker community for two years to offset the $2,500 cost of their passage from Sweden.
The Shaker beliefs included a communal lifestyle based on common ownership of property, celibate purity and confession of sins, all of which new members to the community were required to honor, respect and practice as long as they remained in the community.
The Shakers stressed celibacy so strongly that they required men to live on one side of a communal building and women on the other side with flour sprinkled on the main room floor every night to mark the trail of the unwary who might stray from the path of purity. There was no way in or out of either side except across the flour-coated floor.
Great-great grandpa did his two years, honored his contract with the Shakers but then, for him, it was time to move on. The problem was, his wife Martha and her sister Christine had converted to the Shaker faith and their religious convictions prevailed over family ties. So, great-great grandpa packed up his children and made his way to Minnesota. Olaf died in Minnesota, May 22, 1910, at the age of 83. Martha and her sister Christine both died within five hours of each other on Aug. 1, 1915, in Shakertown (Pleasant Hill), Ky.
My grandmother's father, John Anderson, came to the United States through Ellis Island when he was 21 becoming a United States citizen Oct. 29, 1888. All my maternal generations came to the United States around the same era and all of them worked hard to become productive citizens in their new country. They never once considered themselves Swedish-Americans but rather Americans of Swedish descent.
The point I would like to make here is this: Yes, I am proud of my heritage. I am grateful every day that, through the hard times my ancestors endured to come here and start a new life, I inherited the privilege of being a citizen of the United States. None of them came here knowing how to speak English, but they learned. There were no buttons to push for different languages, no second language classes in the schools they attended, no instruction written in four different languages or signs in stores placing their language above English. None of them came here as rich people, they had to work hard for everything they gained in this country. Most became farmers but pushed their children to higher expectations. They assimilated into the American culture and I would like to think, by their own diversity, added to the melting pot of cultures that make up the United States today without demanding their customs supercede those already in place in our country. There were no special privileges handed to them until they were entitled, by citizenship, to exercise their rights in a new democracy.
I am tired of hearing how we, as United States citizens, offend and violate the civil rights of the hoard of illegal aliens in this country. Well guess what? I am offended by that accusation.
I am offended when I see a flag from other nationalities hung above our flag on United States soil. I am offended when I hear there is talk about omitting "In God We Trust" from our national symbols and currency. I am offended when I call a business to talk to a person and have to go through three or four numbers before I can get English, our primary language, as an option. I am offended when "American" becomes a hyphenated word, preceded by another nationality as a definition of affiliation. I am offended when I am made to feel like a foreigner in the country I was born and raised in because every principle I was ever taught to believe in is being stripped away. There is no other country on this planet that does so much to accommodate immigrants at the expense of its own citizens.
I was taught my American values by first- and second-generation descendants of Swedish immigrants, as were so many others from my generation, descendants from other nationalities, all who wanted so much to be United States citizens that they gave up the country they were born in to come here to look for a better life, appreciate it, and pass that appreciation on to others.
As for me, my only hope for this country, my children, and all my descendants is that all that I believe in, all that has been handed down to me by my immigrant forebearers - the appreciation, privilege and pride of what it means to be a United States citizen - will keep on keepin' on.
-- Jonni Hill can be reached through The Record-Courier at jhill@recordcourier.com or by calling 782-5121, ext. 213, or after hours at JHILL47@aol.com.
