America

I am an American.

That fact is a recent discovery. Although I was born in the US (Brooklyn, N.Y) and I have never lived for more than 2 months outside the US, the fact that I am an American comes as a relatively shocking and new discovery to me.

I thought I was a child of Holocaust survivors. Such a person has no nationality. My nationality was refugee, second generation. I must be ready for the renewal of persecution and a change of venue at any time. Passport must be current. Bribe money (in cash) readily available. Plans ready for Canada, Israel, Mexico...wherever.

I came to realize I am American by analyzing what it means to be American.

An American is one who is descended from ancestors who had the courage to come to the New World. Usually, they had to learn a new (very difficult) language ( no real spelling rules) .

By coming to America they entered into a covenant of tolerance and peace with the nations that were their former enemies. That covenant is passed and strengthened as it is passed form generation to generation.