I keep thinking of that racist idiot screaming at two women for speaking Spanish in a store in New York. If you’d come to my dad’s grocery store in the 1950s, you would have heard Italian spoken. It didn’t mean my parents or our customers were any less American. For so many, the journey here had not been easy. They had to have wanted it bad. They were fully committed to America.
So they came here and in building a new life in America, they kept some things that gave them comfort in a strange land. And they repaid that Continue reading →