A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the White House

A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE WHITE HOUSE

It was 1986 when I became a documented immigrant. By then I had been living “illegally” for a year. I had attended one year of high school and I was quickly learning the difference between what a “burrito” meant in the US what a burrito meant in Mexico.

Because of immigration laws, I couldn’t apply for citizenship right away. But the year I became available to do so, I quickly filled out the application and sent it along with the fee.

I was a senior in college when I received a letter for immigration, asking me to show up to an INS (Immigration and Naturalization Service as it was called back then) office in San Jose, CA. Because I was attending Santa Clara University, the offices were only a short city bus away.

The day before my appointment, I took out my “Citizenship Exam Guide” and studied as much as possible. I had been studying it for many years now so I pretty much knew every answer.

I arrived about 20 minutes before my appointment time and like many other people at the INS office, I waited my turned. It took about two hours before I was called into a private office. I remembered walking in with a pencil in my hand, ready to take the test, which I assumed I was going to do.

The rules state that once you applied for citizenship and you are giving the permission to become one, you still have to take the examination. You need to pass such exam and then, after a short period, you are granted citizenship only to wait a while longer before taking the oath.

Because of the way thing were, I thought I had been called by the INS to take my test. Imagine my surprise and shock when I was told that I had been granted citizenship without taking the exam because I was about to graduate from college and after graduation I was going to go away to get a masters degree. They way they saw it, I was here to stay and I was becoming an exemplary immigrant.

I remember asking if I needed to take the exam. The office told me no. Instead, I had been granted citizenship and all I needed was to check if all names and documents were correct.

I checked the paperwork and I told the officer that everything seemed to be in order. He then asked if, if I knew who the first president of the United States was. I answered, “Abraham Lincoln.”

He looked at me and said, “You’re kidding, right?” I smiled and I said of course. But at that moment, I was shock and nervous and my answer not as a joke. “Who was it?” He asked again. I looked at him and saw, behind him a picture of George Washington. “That guy,” I said pointing at the picture. The officer smile and asked, “And his name is?” By now, I had been able to relax so I answered correctly.

As I signed the last piece of paper, he asked me if I wanted my name to stay as it was or if I wanted to change it. As a new citizen, I had such option. And although I had thought about it for a long time, at that moment, I had no idea what I wanted to do so I said no. “You will get a letter asking to show up for the swearing and the oath within the next 30 days,” he said to me. Then he shook my hand and the whole ordeal was over.

On my way back to the university, I thought about the whole experience and I regretted not changing my name. Chavarría is a last name that doesn’t belong to me but to my step-brothers and sisters. Ironically, since my brothers became citizens and my sisters got married, the only one who has it it’s me. My whole family now carries ANAYA as their last name, which is our grandparents’ last name from my mother’s side of the family.

Anyway, thirty days later after the appointment, I received an official letter asking me to show up in San Jose, CA for the citizenship ceremony. By then, I had already graduated from college and was enjoying my summer before moving on to my next college experience.

I went to the ceremony by myself. I did what I had to do and I picked up my citizenship certificate on the way out. After that day in the summer of 1995 I was no longer a legal resident but a citizen of the United States of America.

Through the years I have taken advantage of my citizenship by voting in every election. I had taken advantage of the opportunities that come with being a citizen and I am very proud of calling myself a member of this country.

One thing, however, that had never appealed to me is a desire to visit Washington, D.C. It isn’t because I don’t like politics or because I don’t like history, or because I don’t like to travel; no it isn’t because of that. It has always been because, as much as I had tried to feel like I belong, I have always felt alienated from being part of this country, part of the Constitution, part of the white house. Yes, at least one president I voted for has been in charge but even he has not really connected with me. Not until now. Not until President Obama set foot in the White House and sat on the presidential chair. Since my becoming a citizen of this country I had never felt a sense of belonging, of pride and joy until President Barack H. Obama made the White House his house.

Never before had I felt a desire to visit Washington. Never before had I desire to step in the room where President Obama first had lunch with the Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. Never before had I felt an urge to shake a president’s hand until now. Never before had I felt a need to see the Constitution of my country the way I feel the need now.

And do you want to know why? Because a funny thing happened on the way to the White House. The new president of the country isn’t a white middle age man, but rather a young, charismatic, intelligent man of color. No, he isn’t Latino but he is by all means a member of the working class. No, he isn’t gay but he is by all means a member of a minority group. No, he isn’t an immigrant but he is by all means a member of an immigrant family. And since his acceptance speech, since I saw him taking office, since I saw him walking the old man and his wife onto the helicopter so President Obama could make sure they were no longer sticking around, since he walked on the parade next to his wife, first lady Michelle Obama, and since I saw him making the sign of “hanging lose” as the parade went by, since then, I had been having the strongest urge to visit Washington, D.C. and savor what the capitol of the nation is all about, along with its history and everything else that finally makes me proud to be a citizen of the USA.

So, yes! A funny thing happened on the way to the White House. That funny thing that happened is pride and joy to be a citizen and to finally see that, at last, one of us, a minority, a person of color, an immigrant family member is my president and the president of the United States. At last, after 12 years, I finally feel and understand the true meaning of becoming a citizen of this country. And for that, I’m finally grateful.

Gay Marriage vs Illegal Immigration

The presidential election victory (at least for me and millions more) came with a strong bittersweet taste. While I was happy to see how President-Elect Obama was sweeping the nation, I was anxiously waiting the results on Prop 8 in California. I didn’t really care about the results in Florida and Arizona, I mean, I already knew those propositions were not going to pass. But in California things were very heated from day one. And the fact that many of us had gotten married as soon as it was allowed, meant that defeating Prop 8 was important, not to mention that California’s outcome sets the pace and mood for the entire country.

I knew the results were not going to come in right away, and I also knew that whatever results the difference between passing the proposition and opposing it was going to be very small. And that’s exactly what happened…. Except that it didn’t go in my favor.

Before I go any further, I think it is fair to give some background to my anxiety, it is after all, the only way I can explain how conflicted my feelings are at the moment.

About two days before the elections, I started to get calls from religious groups about how wrong it would be if Prop 8 didn’t pass. But because my personal policy is to never answer my phone if I don’t know who is calling, the messages were left in my voice mail. One of them said that voting no on Prop 8 would meant that teachers in elementary schools were going to be forced to teach about ‘homosexual marriages’ to my children without my consent. Another message explained that Prop 8 was trying to destroy the “sanctity of marriage” and that God had clearly stated in the Bible that marriage is only between “a man and a woman.”

Every time I heard those messages, I rolled my eyes, and grunted. I knew they were calling me because I am a registered voter, of course they had no idea I’m a gay man, and like thousands of other gay couples, I’m a married gay man… to my partner of 10 years.

The first two times I got voice messages to vote YES on Prop 8, I actually listened to them in their entirety. Once the third one, the fourth one, and the fifth one arrived, I simply deleted them.

But then came Election Day, and off I went on my marry way to vote and to work. While at work, I started to receive phone calls with “unavailable numbers.” I knew there were political calls urging me to vote yes or no on something. When my free time came around, I checked my voice mail and low and behold the “Vote Yes on Prop 8” messages were there again, so like before, I deleted them… until I came across the first SPANISH “Vote Si para la Propuesta 8” message. It was a Latina woman with one of the sweetest voices I have heard in a long time. Her tone was pleasant and she did not sound old. She urged me to “Vote Yes on Prop 8” because it was wrong and against God’s will to allow homosexuals to marry. And what was worse, she said that “as a good Catholic” I should follow the teachings of the church.”

If you reading this and you personally know me, you know how angry I can get. But let me tell you, once I heard that message I was not angry, I was extremely pissed off.

How dare she assume I follow Catholic teachings? How dare she assume I was even Catholic? Is it because I’m Latino? And how dare she, like every caller before hand assumed I was straight? Is it because I’m Mexican? Latino? What? I was very upset, and the worse thing was that I couldn’t even get her number to call her and let her have a piece of my mind.

I mean, who and when was it decided that if you are a register voter, in your early forties, Latino male, and a democrat you are automatically Catholic, straight, and have children? And what if I am straight, married and with children. Does that mean because I’m male and Latino I’m automatically Catholic?

Okay, I can understand why they assume I’m Catholic. After all, about 90% of the Latino population is Catholic the rest is simply going to hell, this of course according to my late abuelita. But even if I was born in a Catholic household, and raised Catholic, does that mean I’m automatically destine to follow the church’s teachings? If that is the case, believe me, I don’t think the Pope can convinced God to forgive my family for the many rules we have broken. In fact, not even La Virgen de Guadalupe could save us, no matter how much she pleads to the Almighty. But I digress.

There are so many things that bother me about the way the ‘holier than thou’ managed to convinced voters to pass Prop 8. For example, the teaching of ‘homosexual marriages’ in schools, I mean, when was the last time a chapter in an elementary, middle or high school book mentioned heterosexual marriage as part of the curriculum? I don’t recall being thought about that at all. And unless the California Board of Education has implanted such teachings into the school system in the last seven years or so ( the last time I was aware that heterosexual marriage was not part of the curriculum) since when do teachers actually talk in school about such things?

And what is it with this “sanctity of marriage” proclamation? Heterosexual marriage a sanctity? Really? Since when? I honestly doubt it. The Catholic Church has a real hard time trying to keep “heterosexual marriages together. Divorce rates are in high demand all the time. But let’s not go that far. Let’s assume NO ONE gets divorced. Okay, there is this little thing called “AFFAIRS” and boy, if they really believe in the “sanctity of marriage” well, then, I had no idea that cheating on your husband or your wife is part of such sanctity.

And since the Mormon Church was very kind to contribute a few million dollars to help pass the proposition, have about the idea of making marriage between a man and a woman… just ONE woman not two or three or four. Yes, you know what I’m talking about. If such practice is part of the “sanctity of marriage,” well, let me in because that is a sweet deal.

One thing that bothers me the most is this idea of how many Latinos voted to pass Prop 8 because of Catholic teachings, disregarding the fact that as Latinos, we are people who continue to struggle to be discriminated against because we are what we are. No, I don’t mean gay, I mean, Latino.

Remember the immigrant marches back in 20006? That’s right! Those marches were part of a movement to let people know the injustice against immigrants in this country, documented and undocumented. And yes, Latinos were, are, and continue to be part of such struggle. Well guess what? Gay Latinos were there too. I know. I was there, along with my partner and his family, along with many of my gay friends and Gay Latino organizations. And yes, many of those Latino people saw us, walking, chanting, holding hands, carrying our rainbow flags. And those Latino people didn’t say a thing, they looked at us and smile because we were ALL ONE, united for the same cause, the same rights and equality.

Yet, in these past elections, many of those same Latino people forgot about that; they turned their backs and followed their “religious beliefs” and voted for a proposition that soon might make my marriage invalid, and all because marriage should be ‘between a man and a woman,’ because the sanctity of marriage must be protected,’ and because school will be forced to teach about ‘homosexual marriage.’

Well, let me tell you something. How would you, my Latino-Catholic believer-protector of the sanctity of marriage would feel if you go out once again marching in the streets, asking the future presidency to pass some amnesty in favor of Latino (and other nationalities) undocumented immigrants, and suddenly, we, the gay people gather together and march next to you, but instead of supporting you we went against you, not because you’re Latino but because you’re straight, or maybe because you’re a straight Latino and we’re not. How would you feel then? How would you react to that? What are you going to tell me? What are you going to say now? What are you going to do?

I realize that Prop 8 did not pass only because Latino Catholics voted, there were others too, Christians, Mormons, what have you. But I’m talking to my own people, my own raza, those I walked with during immigration protest, those who smile at me but voted against me. You know who you are and you know what you did.

It amazes me you are blinded by your faith, by your scriptures. Your vote in favor of Prop 8 only means you have alienated many of your own people. You might say you don’t care, you might say it doesn’t matter because protecting marriage is more important. Well, once your cousin or your aunt, or your own father is kicked out, you will care. And guess what? I won’t care because well, I’m protecting my country, its sanctity, its purity and undocumented immigrants are not part of the deal.

So yes, I’m angry. I’m angry at your ignorance and stupidity. I’m angry at your double standards and at your hypocrisy, and I’m angry at you for not understanding that standing in favor or Prop 8 means destroying what I have worked hard to have, a happy marriage with my partner of 10 years. We may not be perfect, but neither are you. The difference between us is that we know it and we accepted; we don’t deny it and we don’t hide it. But you do.

So yes, I’m angry and let me tell you that if I was a closed minded, blinded, and ignorant moron like you, and the opportunity to send you back to your country was at my grasp, I would gladly take advantage of such opportunity and send you back.

Yes, it is cold blooded revenge for what you have done to me. And you know what? I’m not alone. Because those people who also supported Prop 8 and are not Latino, many of them are ready to send your undocumented friends and love ones back. And when that happens, you will truly understand the anger, the pain, and the sadness I feel at seeing you vote in favor of Proposition. 8. Only then you will truly see who really supports your cause. And only then, you will understand that what you have done, unless you take steps back to redeem yourself, has open a war between you staying and me sending you back. And by the looks of it, I’M GOING TO WIN!