Shopping sprees, card games, hanging out with family, painting pottery, water skiing, tubing, babysitting, twilight, lunch with old friends, visits from new ones, Canada, homemade gelato, four wheeling and so on...
So far this summer has been packed with nonstop fun, but by far the most interesting experience I've had has been working with my father. He works for a produce distribution company, heading the repack division. What this means for me is countless hours of sorting through tomatoes, throwing out the rotten ones. I've never been a fan of tomatoes myself, although some people find them interesting because they aren't fully fruit or vegetable, and some people simply enjoy eating them. I however hold a personal grudge against them that seems to grow every time I work there. It is perhaps one of the most tedious jobs ever, sorting through endless boxes of tomatoes to make sure they are of the highest quality. In fact, it's probably something most people never even think about; all the hours of labor put into making sure your produce is perfect for the supermarket shelves.
So how can such a tedious task be one of the most interesting experiences of my summer so far?
Well, it turns out that while working with my father I have had conversations with some of the most fascinating people I've ever met. When I first met them I didn't know what to think, mostly that they were people from the inner city, living a different lifestyle than I'd ever been exposed to. I wasn't sure we'd have anything to talk about, or if we'd even be able to communicate since many of them speak very little, if any English. However, it turned out that many of them aren't originally from the US which intrigued me, because I love to learn about different cultures. This is my view of their struggles...
Over one hundred years ago many of our ancestors stepped off a boat and into a world of possibilities. It wasn't easy. They had to wait in seemingly endless lines just to see if they'd be accepted into this new country, hoping they wouldn't be sent home for contracting something as simple as modern day pink eye. As they were herded like cattle through various rooms they held onto their most important possessions, often no more than a suitcase for many.
Many people were separated from their families and flat broke, but they risked it all in hopes of a better life. Once accepted into the country, they worked very hard for little pay to try and make it better for the next generation of their family. After all isn't that what the American dream is all about?
This all sounds like ancient history to many of us, but the struggle to become a citizen in this country is still very alive.
One man I talked to while working with my dad came here from Africa. I had seen movies like Blood Diamond, so I had some understanding of the fighting and mass killings that were happening over there. Yet the Hollywood film didn't seem to do it justice after talking to a man who lost it all over some precious gems. As difficult as it was for him to talk about, he managed to tell me how his entire family had been killed, and he knew he had to leave or he would probably die as well. He decided to come to come to America because he speaks decent English and wanted to work for the government as a translator. I don’t know much about how he gained citizenship, but after hearing accounts of these atrocities first hand I made a promise to myself- I would never purchase or wear jewelry unless I knew for certain no lives were taken for it.
I also had the privilege of working with a woman who was able to escape from her life in Cuba. She explained how she used to be a gymnast, and came to the United States to compete. As her fellow gymnasts prepared to head to the airport, she arranged for a friend to pick her up. This was the beginning of her seven year struggle to become a permanent resident of the United States. She started out in California, where she didn't even have enough money to file papers for citizenship. Since she didn't have a green card, she couldn't get a job, so she had to work under the table doing things such as cleaning houses. Eventually she decided to take a three day bus ride to Buffalo, NY so she could live there. During the ride she was completely terrified of being caught and deported back to Cuba. She had also just started learning English so she couldn't communicate well enough to order food at rest stops. As if that’s not difficult enough, just imagine taking all of you possessions with you on a bus. I know I wouldn’t be able to do it. Luckily for this woman, after years of struggling and working hard she was finally able to gain full citizenship for the United States.
When I asked her why she decided to leave she explained that living there had its positive sides, for example you never had to pay for medical care or education, and everyone pretty much made the same amount of money whether they were a doctor or a school teacher. But it also had its negative sides, because the country often ran low on food, and she remembers endless nights of going to sleep with an empty stomach. In her broken English she also tried to explain that she was friends with children whose parents worked for the government, and they always seemed to have more than her, more money, more food; more anything matters in a communist country where everyone is supposed to be equal.
So far this summer has been packed with nonstop fun, but by far the most interesting experience I've had has been working with my father. He works for a produce distribution company, heading the repack division. What this means for me is countless hours of sorting through tomatoes, throwing out the rotten ones. I've never been a fan of tomatoes myself, although some people find them interesting because they aren't fully fruit or vegetable, and some people simply enjoy eating them. I however hold a personal grudge against them that seems to grow every time I work there. It is perhaps one of the most tedious jobs ever, sorting through endless boxes of tomatoes to make sure they are of the highest quality. In fact, it's probably something most people never even think about; all the hours of labor put into making sure your produce is perfect for the supermarket shelves.
So how can such a tedious task be one of the most interesting experiences of my summer so far?
Well, it turns out that while working with my father I have had conversations with some of the most fascinating people I've ever met. When I first met them I didn't know what to think, mostly that they were people from the inner city, living a different lifestyle than I'd ever been exposed to. I wasn't sure we'd have anything to talk about, or if we'd even be able to communicate since many of them speak very little, if any English. However, it turned out that many of them aren't originally from the US which intrigued me, because I love to learn about different cultures. This is my view of their struggles...
Over one hundred years ago many of our ancestors stepped off a boat and into a world of possibilities. It wasn't easy. They had to wait in seemingly endless lines just to see if they'd be accepted into this new country, hoping they wouldn't be sent home for contracting something as simple as modern day pink eye. As they were herded like cattle through various rooms they held onto their most important possessions, often no more than a suitcase for many.
Many people were separated from their families and flat broke, but they risked it all in hopes of a better life. Once accepted into the country, they worked very hard for little pay to try and make it better for the next generation of their family. After all isn't that what the American dream is all about?
This all sounds like ancient history to many of us, but the struggle to become a citizen in this country is still very alive.
One man I talked to while working with my dad came here from Africa. I had seen movies like Blood Diamond, so I had some understanding of the fighting and mass killings that were happening over there. Yet the Hollywood film didn't seem to do it justice after talking to a man who lost it all over some precious gems. As difficult as it was for him to talk about, he managed to tell me how his entire family had been killed, and he knew he had to leave or he would probably die as well. He decided to come to come to America because he speaks decent English and wanted to work for the government as a translator. I don’t know much about how he gained citizenship, but after hearing accounts of these atrocities first hand I made a promise to myself- I would never purchase or wear jewelry unless I knew for certain no lives were taken for it.
I also had the privilege of working with a woman who was able to escape from her life in Cuba. She explained how she used to be a gymnast, and came to the United States to compete. As her fellow gymnasts prepared to head to the airport, she arranged for a friend to pick her up. This was the beginning of her seven year struggle to become a permanent resident of the United States. She started out in California, where she didn't even have enough money to file papers for citizenship. Since she didn't have a green card, she couldn't get a job, so she had to work under the table doing things such as cleaning houses. Eventually she decided to take a three day bus ride to Buffalo, NY so she could live there. During the ride she was completely terrified of being caught and deported back to Cuba. She had also just started learning English so she couldn't communicate well enough to order food at rest stops. As if that’s not difficult enough, just imagine taking all of you possessions with you on a bus. I know I wouldn’t be able to do it. Luckily for this woman, after years of struggling and working hard she was finally able to gain full citizenship for the United States.
When I asked her why she decided to leave she explained that living there had its positive sides, for example you never had to pay for medical care or education, and everyone pretty much made the same amount of money whether they were a doctor or a school teacher. But it also had its negative sides, because the country often ran low on food, and she remembers endless nights of going to sleep with an empty stomach. In her broken English she also tried to explain that she was friends with children whose parents worked for the government, and they always seemed to have more than her, more money, more food; more anything matters in a communist country where everyone is supposed to be equal.
It's crazy to imagine how different people live, whether they choose to or not. It was definitely interesting talking to these people and hearing about their struggles in life, and I am happy that they were able to make it as far as they have. I guess it's just something to think about next time you pick up tomatoes in the grocery store.
