Yes, that and “America the Beautiful” rang in the cringing ears of myself, and 1,495 immigrants who became US Citizens in a San Francisco ceremony today. Together we represented 92 countries, although I do believe I was the only South African present in that cavernous, yawning Masonic Center Auditorium. And we walked out representing only one. A day after the election of a lifetime, we gained the right to a voice.
Regardless, I will admit that mostly it was the finite details that disturbed me most this crisp California morning. Where was my husband in that blurry kaleidoscope of fuzzy colours upstairs, and is my eyesight going to fail me at this ripe young age? Why is the British woman next to me not saying the oath, and did she really just call this morning’s legalities a “thing”? That would be much like calling yesterday’s presidential election a “landslide” when just over half the population voted for the winner, and only 800,000 more than voted for Bush in 2004. Feeling much like a chorus of trembling voices in the preschool nativity play, we avoided eye-contact with our beaming, flag-waving families upstairs, and trudged through a predictable, but no less warmly welcoming ceremony. And tonight we sleep, deeply and soundly, in the knowledge that we too can soon have our say on the renaming of sewage plants and gay marriage in the coming years, living in this, our new home. America. The Beautiful.
