Meanings of America

My family history is one filled with exciting yet depressing stories. As you may have seen or guessed from my red hair, freckles, and blue eyes, I am Irish, but only 50% (though I’ve seemed to have received all the Irish genes!). During a project to create a family tree I began to search and discover things about my ancient relatives that I never knew. My great great ect grandparents on my mothers side came from Ireland during the Potato Famine, fleeing from starvation and death. While I am told they came through Elis Island, this was before the Island started taking records of their immigrants. Like all Irish immigrants entering the US at this time, they had it tough with the discrimination they faced from Americans who thought the Irish were diseased and taking all their jobs. In an article from the Daily News a mass grave was recently discovered where 57 Irish Immigrants perished soon after arriving in Pennsylvania. Update: Bones may reveal Pa. grave of Irish immigrants in Chesco by Jennifer Miller helps describe and confirm my ancestor’s experiences of being shunned by communities. In this article it is believed that the Irish men died from cholera ingested from water, yet they were shunned by the local community because of their Irish Catholic religion. These men, like my family struggled to prove their devotion to America and some even died for it.
On my father’s side I have a little more information. My grandmother’s father traveled from France to NYC to escape WWI. Thankfully I have been able to discover his records in the Elis Island database. My great grandfather moved to PA, married, had 3 children, and started a logging business. However, my great grandmother was none too fond of the wilderness and while my grandmother was a baby, left and never returned. My Great grandfather tried to raise the children himself but couldn’t (not to mention his brother blew up the house by storing dynamite there, thankfully no one was hurt!). My grandmother and her brother and sister moved in with their aunt, however hard times hit and the family was forced to send my grandmother’s sister to live on a farm to work. My Grandmother never saw her sister again and it is a mystery what became of her.
America and Americans are strange and different from other nations because the term does not represent an ethnic group that is connected to citizenship. Instead America is made up of multiple cultures and ethnicities none of which is seen as “more American.” Instead being American comes from the love for this nation and a willingness to help it. My ancestors, while they were Irish and French, they became Americans by loving this nation and helping it prosper. I believe people need to get over what your skin color is or you native language, we need to see beyond this into each others hearts and come to the conclusion that we are equal. Today many see people from Muslim countries as dangerous and treat them with animosity, just like people did to my ancestors in the past. America is beautiful and loved, not just by Americans but by people all over the world. We can not hoard America and what it stands for for ourselves, it would not be America if it was not a dream and an opportunity open and hoped for by all.