THE IMMIGRANT

Coming to America

Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash

When we speak of the Immigrant —
we speak of the first dreamers of America.

Not soldiers, not kings… but ordinary men and women who looked across an ocean and believed there could be more.

Imagine it.
Leaving behind your home, your friends, your church…
everything you’ve ever known —
for a promise.
A rumor, really —
a place where you could worship freely,
work your own land, and build a future not handed down by birth, but earned by courage.

They came from England and Scotland, from Holland, France, and Germany.
Some fled hunger. Some fled war.
Some came in chains, or in servitude,
hoping that one day their children might walk free. Unlike explorers or soldiers, immigrants came intending to build communities, own land, and create lasting futures for themselves and their descendants.

And when they stepped onto these shores — onto rock and marsh and forest — they became something new.
They became the Immigrant. A term of respect for that person has been used in many American families for over 300 years.

On my father’s side, “the Immigrant” was Richard Littlepage. Not being the eldest son, Richard Littlepage came with the hope of working his own land. On my mother’s side, “the Immigrant” was Thomas Parker who came as a 12-year-old indentured servant. After ten years, he worked off his servitude, returned to England to get his younger brother, and both came home to Isle of Wight, Virginia.

They built cabins from trees they cut by hand. They sowed seeds in strange soil. They fought cold, sickness, and loneliness — and somehow, they endured.

Because beneath every hardship was one unshakable belief:
Tomorrow could be better.

That belief — that restless, unstoppable hope — is what built this country.
Not power. Not wealth. Not conquest.
But faith. The faith of those who left everything behind so that something greater could begin.

So when we speak of the Immigrant,
we’re not just telling their story —
we’re telling our own.
Because every generation, in its own way, crosses an ocean.
Every generation begins again.

The Immigrant…
is not just who they were.
It’s who we still are.

But now a political party has turned its back on America. It has sought to make the term “Immigrant” a slur word. But I and most of America know that we are all Immigrants. We all have hopes that tomorrow could be better.

Yes, our government’s immigration system is broken. There has been no major overhaul of the immigration system since 1986. There has been piecemeal legislation since then, but no major reform. President Obama tried with a six section point plan that included:

1. to fix border enforcement,

2. “interior enforcement”, such as preventing visa overstays,

3. preventing people from working without a work permit,

4. creating a committee to adapt the number of visas available to changing economic times,

5. a program to provide a path to legal status for illegal immigrants, and

6. programs to help immigrants adjust to life in the United States.

President Trump’s plan is a Gestapo approach to deport immigrants, which has hurt our farms and industries, such that Trump is now considering a $10 Billion Dollar bailout for farmers who lost their fieldhands and were further damaged by irrational tariffs on our allies and largest trading partners. Trump has approached immigration like an uneducated bigot, seeking to inflame passions by portraying immigration as the coming downfall of America.

Yes, our immigration system is broken. It needs a major overhaul. It is time for Congress to reconsider the Obama plan. It offered something for all parties. Eventually, there will be a meeting of the minds by more rational members of Congress. Because the Immigrant…
is not just who they were, it is still who we still are.