The American Dream

If you haven’t yet, you should read the New York Post today and see the story about Yoenis Cespedes’ defecting from Cuba. It’s reporting at its best. 

I remembered growing up hearing about the oppression of communist countries like the USSR and Cuba. However, I never truly had context. Sunday’s Post story allowed me to do that. It’s hard to imagine for no reason a government trying to take away your dream of playing baseball. It’s unreal that you couldn’t use the Internet as freely as you can here. Lastly, it’s unfathomable you would have to leave your son behind to seek a better life for everyone. 

For most people, our ancestors came to America because it was the land of opportunity. Most sought out this land of opportunity because they were escaping something. I think no matter how far removed you are, you need to remember your roots and make sure your children are aware of them as well. 

My son comes from a line of survivors. On my side of the family, my ancestors escaped the English oppression of Ireland and the potato famines. My family’s story is mundane compared to my wife’s grandparents’ story. 

Her grandmother was similar to Frank McCourt in that she was born in America, but she returned to her native country, the Ukraine (she returned because she was born while her mother was visiting family in the U.S., not due to extreme poverty). Therefore, when the Nazis invaded, she was able to return to America as a citizen. Her husband was not as lucky. 

He couldn’t come to America immediately. So, while he waited to find a way out, he continued to run his tailoring business. Before he could escape, he was put in a concentration camp. He survived. When he and the other prisoners were freed, they were just released out into the wild. No one was given any help or support. 

His ever-loving wife never gave up hope. She waited, and waited, and waited. Her American cousins told her to move on. Surely, anyone would’ve understood. The chances of his survival weren’t great. Them finding one another after all those years was infinitesimal. Years and years passed. Finally, with all of the searching, hoping, and praying her husband was located and brought to the U.S.  

He became a proud American citizen. He and his wife saved money and purchased a home. He raised two daughters and put them through college. When he passed away, he left behind a loving wife, two daughters, and a smart, beautiful granddaughter. She, herself, was well educated, and very cognizant of her roots and her family’s history. She gave birth to an amazing baby boy. A boy who is fourth generation Irish-American (depending on which family member you select) and third generation Ukranian-American. 

As you can see, we all have our stories. Some escape starvation and oppression. Others escape one of the worst dictators and atrocities the world has ever known. Some just want to play baseball. 

Lucky for my wife, my son, and I, we were born in America, the greatest country in the world. We don’t know the oppression and hardships of our forefathers. We are here because of those who struggled and had to risk everything to come here. I couldn’t imagine them having to leave loved ones behind. 

I feel pity for Cespedes not being able to see his son. No amount of money or phone calls can make up for that. I know I couldn’t do what he’s doing right now. I hope one day he and his son are united because as we see when families are united wonderful things happen.