Dear America: Notes of an Undocumented Citizen

by Jose Antonio Vargas

Privately, I was spent. I get what he was saying. American citizenship is not the be-all and end-all for everyone. American citizenship is not as simple as being born in America or pledging allegiance to the American flag during a naturalization ceremony. American citizenship is not a guarantee. Talk to indigenous people and black people; even though they may be U.S. citizens by birth, many are treated like second-class citizens. Talk to undocumented people whose idea of citizenship is providing for their families and feeding their kids. Talk to legal permanent residents—green card holders—who decided not to take the next step of applying for U.S. citizenship. Some can’t afford the fee, which is about $725. Others feel that America is not home to them, and they’re not made to feel like America is home. America is simply where they live, where they work, where they make money. And for some, home is the culture of their home country, not the culture of an adopted land that asks them to assimilate, whatever that may mean. I wish I could say that being a global citizen is enough, but I haven’t been able to see the world, and I’m still trying to figure out what citizenship, from any country, means to me. I wish I could say that being a human being is enough, but there are times I don’t feel like a human being. I feel like a thing. A thing to be explained and understood, tolerated and accepted. A thing that spends too much time educating people so it doesn’t have to educate itse...