The Greatest Story Ever Told
Due to a work event, I wasn’t able to watch Kamala Harris’s acceptance speech at the DNC live on Thursday night. But I watched it about an hour later and was floored. Under immense pressure, under the highest of expectations, Kamala outperformed, exceeding all expectations. Her biography is what makes her relatable. It illustrates her values. And her story is the American story.
When she talked about her immigrant parents, I thought about mine. My dad was a cook and a taxicab driver. My mother worked as a waitress. My sister and I grew up squarely in the middle class, in a rented flat in the San Francisco working class neighborhood of North Beach (yes, back in the 1970s and ’80s it was working class). Our school, though a private parochial one, was also attended by students from around the neighborhood, also mostly kids of immigrants. Education was a top value in our immigrant families and they made sacrifices to pay for our schooling.
Because my mother and father worked so hard, my parents taught my sister and me the importance of dedication and self-determination. Money was always a worry in our household. It was an unspoken presence permeating all decisions. We definitely grew up with a scarcity mindset.
But our parents, especially my dad, taught us the art of the possible. There wasn’t a problem he was unwilling to figure out. He was a jack of all trades who knew how to cook anything, repair anything, and do anything. Though he died when my sister and I were teenagers, his curiosity remained in us, and we knew we could pursue any career we wanted.
With the unwavering support of our mother, we were the first ones in our extended family to go to college, coming out the other end to pursue white collar, professional careers. And creative ones at that. We became entrepreneurs, starting small businesses that created jobs.
Kamala Harris’s story and my story are not dissimilar. They’re echoes, variations on the American story of immigrants coming to seek a better life in the greatest country in the world. So that they may give a better life for their children and their children’s children.
The American story changes the further you get away from your original immigrant ancestors - yes, unless your ancestors are indigenous, we’re all descendants of immigrants. But it is still about opportunity; it is still about the art of the possible; it is still about freedom. It is about everyone having a chance.
Kamala ended her speech with “And together, let us write the next great chapter in the most extraordinary story ever told.” It resonated with me and made me emotional. Because she captured exactly what it means to me to be an American and to love this country where an unlikely journey like hers and mine could only happen here.
