Glad You Could Join Us
July 4, 2003

By Tamar Jacoby

The Fourth of July used to be a big day in New York. In 1918 -- probably the proudest year - 70,000 newly naturalized immigrants marched up Fifth Avenue for 10 hours in what one reporter called "the greatest patriotic parade" the city had ever seen.

Some 1 million immigrants a year were then arriving on our shores -- about the same number as today. Each year, roughly that many became eligible for citizenship -- but unlike today, in that era we reached out to them.

The Americanization movement (launched by Progressive-era do-gooders) prepared newcomers with English and civics classes, then sponsored celebrations when they became citizens. The Fourth of July 1915 was the first national event: big, showy parades and rallies in 107 cities.

Politicians, school authorities, churches and civic groups took part, and what seemed like a new holiday, "Americanization Day," was born -- a tradition still going strong in New York by the time of the huge parade in 1918.

But 85 years later, it might as well never have happened. We as a nation don't even send eligible immigrants a postcard telling them it's time to apply for citizenship. Yet we complain, often angrily, that they don't want to assimilate.

Maybe -- just maybe -- we ought to be doing something about it? Encouraging citizenship would be one of the most useful things we could do to spur assimilation.

Becoming an American is a complex, personal process -- the kind of transition that can take a lifetime, even two. Newcomers need help all along the way: everything from English classes for adults to better schools for their kids to practical lessons in navigating the forbidding, foreign world of modern banking and credit cards.

Still, acquiring citizenship is a vital turning point -- and arguably the place where the mainstream can intervene mostly effectively. It's when a newcomer decides that he or she belongs - a profound decision that can have consequences for virtually everything else they do.

Social scientists talk of kinds of assimilation: economic, political, cultural. But nothing is more critical than the moment when an immigrant starts to identify with America -- to use the word "we" instead of "they" and feel that his or her fate is intertwined with the United States'.

Preparing for naturalization feeds this sense of belonging, which in turn tends to spur other steps, like putting down roots (often buying a house) and participating in the political process.

What's more, unlike many other forms of immigrant assistance, naturalization aid is something the right and left can agree upon. It would mean more services for immigrants -- mainly English and civics lessons. But it's also a chance to promote patriotism and teach newcomers what it means to be American.

Besides, whatever the cost, no one can say this isn't a job for government -- and something the nation as a whole ought to see as a good investment.

Not that the government should have to do it alone. Today as 100 years ago, corporate America ought to be enlisted to help -- big time. After all, business benefits as much as if not more than other Americans from the influx of low-skilled, low-paid workers; shouldn't it be employers' responsibility to help settle them? (Indeed, many corporations already do, recognizing their stake in a stable, integrated workforce.)

The rest of us can participate, too. Today, as in the 1910s, it shouldn't be hard to rally the public - civic organizations, faith-based groups and ordinary volunteers from all walks of life. Few civic experiences are more moving than attending a naturalization ceremony -- if you've never been, you ought to try one. And mentoring a new American would surely be even more rewarding: a chance not only to help someone, but also to remind oneself, in the wake of 9/11, just what it means to be an American.

And that of course is the point: communicating what it means to be American.

As is, naturalization tends to be a fairly routine process: Live here five years as a legal resident, then take a simple test, in English, in American history and government, next have a brief interview with a federal bureaucrat and attend a ceremony where you swear your loyalty to the United States.

There are plenty of opportunities to make this rite of passage meaningful, but as often as not we miss them. Sometimes the ceremony is in a courtroom and an inspiring speaker addresses the new citizens -- but all too often, it's in a drab government office and the only well-chosen words are the oath.

Even more of a missed chance are the questions on the test. Yes, new Americans should probably know the colors of the flag and the story of Betsy Ross. But does learning the number of justices on the Supreme Court really help a Mexican-American with a sixth-grade education understand the meaning - and beauty - of the rule of law?

What's needed is not just more money for classes, although that's a good place to start. The federal government now allocates $70 million a year for English and civics instruction, but even that amount may not make it into the next budget -- at a time when the need is growing.

Of course, the last thing we want is a ballooning bureaucracy: The funding should take the form of grants to private groups, including some faith-based, that know immigrants and how to reach them. There ought to be incentives for business to get involved and for volunteer mentoring. But most important, a new citizenship push ought to stress the democratic values that make America worth joining.

There are many ways to do this: more in-depth instruction, a more meaningful alternative to the multiple-choice test, more resonant swearing-in ceremonies and more bully-pulpit talk about what citizenship is and why it's important.

The nation has had a taste of that from President Bush, who recently honored several servicemen who fought and died in Iraq by granting them posthumous citizenship. That's the right idea -- the right kind of message to be sending. But there is much more to be done.

Across America, some 7.5 million immigrants are eligible to become citizens. In New York City, where more than 35 percent of the population is foreign-born, the number probably approaches 750,000. Isn't it time we invited them to join as full members of the glorious nation we celebrate today?

Tamar Jacoby, a senior fellow at the Manhattan Institute and editor of the forthcoming "Reinventing the Melting Pot: The New Immigrants and What It Means to be American," is working with a coalition in Washington to launch a citizenship initiative.

©2003 New York Post

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