Proudly with the American flag, my mother and her students
The American freedom seal proudly adorns my certicate of naturalization on an original version stamped “Petition No. 897”. A small photo with my nine year old almond eyes and big teeth beaming of bold possibilities is glued over an embossed American seal. On “this 25th day of February in the year of our Lord nineteen hundred and seventy two”, I became an official American citizen after three and a half years of living in the United States.
It sounded like a big deal but truly I didn’t know too much about the reality of becoming a citizen of the United States. It just seemed to be a day filled with even more pressure to make my adoptive mother proud of me to the public. She seemed proud, but she kept telling stories to the newspaper reporters of how I was found under a house. I wanted to crawl under a rock and die of embarrassment. She was not telling the truth but I never spoke up, I was too afraid of her to speak up. Instead I harbored anger and contempt and buried it deep within until the next day when I saw the articles in the newspaper. Then I spoke up and said “the newspaper is lying, it says that you found me under a house” she replied with “oh Pushpa well you did live under Rabeya’s house.” There were three local papers that covered the story of 13 of us who received our citizenship but their focus was on my story of living under a house.
The truth was that I lived in an apartment downstairs from Rabeya(adoption maker) not under her house.
Recently I reacquainted with a classmate that was in my class the year that I was sworn in under oath as a citizen. This is her recollection of the first memories of me.
*********************************************************
She conveyed the exciting news that we were all being invited to celebrate with Pushpa her citizenship. It seemed like it was a very exciting occasion for you. But when I looked at you, you did not look that happy about it, maybe you were embarrassed by all the attention. So it was sort of weird trying to be all celebratory but you were not in the mood it seemed.
Of course I wondered when I would get my “citizenship” party.
On our way out to the playground, I remember hearing this story.
This is a crazy story because it is what the kid said and my imagination mixing together. It is so nice to now know the true story and to see pictures, they are really wonderful.
Mr. and Mrs. Deerdorf were touring through India and came upon a house and heard a baby crying. They went to the basement and found Pushpa abandoned in a high chair with the tray in place.
In my child’s mind, your adoptive parents were dressed in safari outfits walking through an over grown jungle. I had no idea what India was like, it just sounded far away. The house was one like you would find in the US because I didn’t know what homes looked like there either. The house was abandoned and you were in a high chair with thecrying and wondered how you could have survived like that without food and water? Your adoptive parents found you and took you home with them.
********************************************************************************************************************
When I first read this, I laughed but I also wondered what other stories were told that were not true and how people must have perceived me as a person based on these lies. I never knew whether to be happy or feel like a liar to the world to fit my mother’s story. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion but was tied up in falsities and lies and I didn’t have the freedom to speak up and be heard. What I said was quickly swept away as unimportant.
© Pushpa Duncklee and Pushpa’s Blog, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Pushpa Duncklee and Pushpa’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Pushpa's Blog 