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“The United States is a nation of immigrants”

2020-01-15T21:44:16.536Z


[OPINION] Alan Smolinisky, one of the owners of the Los Angeles Dodgers, tells his father's immigration story.


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Fernando Valenzuela icon of the Dodgers, in 1985 (Credit: Rick Stewart / Getty Images)

Editor's Note: Alan Smolinisky is an entrepreneur, investor and one of the owners of the Los Angeles Dodgers.

(CNN Spanish) - That's a weird thing.

Even today, more than 200 years after the founding of our country, USA. It is one of the few nations strongly conformed by immigration. And almost everyone sees that as a key to US success. today.

Unfortunately, the system we have now prevents good and hardworking people from coming here legally and contributing to our country. That weakens our nation, stifles creativity and eliminates economic vitality. Encourage people of good will to try to come in violation of our laws because there is no legal path available. That is why it is time to update our system and address issues such as dreamers, or dreamers, as well as reform the asylum system so that we can continue to fulfill the promise with immigration and make the application more effective. It is urgent to carry out this, because in the competitive international market that exists today, it would be foolish to allow inaction to eliminate a natural advantage from which the US He has always enjoyed.

I know that this generation of immigrants can contribute as much or more than previous generations, because I saw it in my immigrant father.

In the movie Field of Dreams , a baseball classic, an Iowa farmer named Ray Kinsella hears a voice in his cornfields that inspires him to plow part of his crop and build a baseball field. Magically, several deceased baseball players arrive to play the sport they love. In the famous final scene that makes men of all ages cry, Ray realizes that the recipient is his father. While father and son walk on first base, Ray asks: "Is there a heaven?" His father replies: “Oh yes. It is the place where dreams come true. ” For my immigrant father, that place was the USA.

My father, Mario, was born in Argentina in 1945, with large discolorations of the skin and gummy nodules called hemangiomas on the face. He was poor and Jewish in a country where Jews were treated as second-class citizens, sometimes worse. People didn't treat my dad well. He felt intimidated and forced to endure mocking glances wherever he went.

Although Dad did not have a formal education, he possessed deep innate wisdom and could predict what would happen in Argentina, with his political instability and lack of opportunities. Dad fantasized about a better life in that place where immigrants from all over the world had the opportunity to make their dreams come true: the United States.

Dad took a break in early 1963 when his uncle Samuel moved to Los Angeles. He wrote asking if he could come to live with him in Los Angeles, and in the meantime he saved every peso. The US letter finally arrived. Samuel said yes.

Dad arrived in Los Angeles in October 1963 with four dollars in his pocket and no trade. He did not speak a word of English. I was 17 years old.

Twelve hours later, Dad had his social security card. By noon, he had gotten his first job. With the broom in his hand and radiant with pride, he swept the floors of a clothing factory in the clothing district of downtown Los Angeles. He would spend the next 40 years of his life working with immigrants from everywhere.

Dad took advantage of the US, which means that he naturally fell in love with baseball. His beloved Dodgers, who played a few miles from the clothing district, in his new stadium, became part of his life. He attended games and sang the national anthem. He learned English by constantly tuning his radio for the Dodger broadcast of Vin Scully, which was delivered in the warm and quiet style of the legendary commentator.

With the support of my mother, who emigrated from Argentina with her family, Dad made his way sweeping floors until he became head of an apartment. He and mom used their savings so that Dad could start a clothing business that would eventually bring 30 years of success and allow him to hire and advise new immigrants. With dad's guidance and encouragement, many of those immigrants started their own businesses, something that brought him great joy throughout his life.

Dad's successful career in business ended in 2001, but by then he had already sent my sister and me to major universities. He gave us the opportunities he and mom never had. His daughter became a corporate lawyer; his son, an entrepreneur who partnered with a Taiwanese immigrant to start a business in his university residence that became large and then huge.

Then our perfect world collapsed. Dad called one day in May 2016 to tell me to find my sister, grab our husbands and get home immediately. When we got there, we learned about dad's cancer. After a sleepless night, Dad came the next morning. I really wanted to play ball a little. We grabbed our gloves and threw the ball from side to side in the warm California sun as if all was well. Then we sat together in silence; Two men who never stopped talking for once had nothing to say.

A few months later, my son and I picked up Dad and headed straight for our favorite place in the world, the Dodgers Stadium. Imagine three generations of fans eating hot dogs. It was perfect. We talked about the incredible story of our team: Jackie Robinson breaking the barrier of the races, Sandy's perfect game, Fernandomania, and the night 31 years ago when Dad let me get up late to see Gibby play. And Vin. Always Vin I knew Dad was weak. It only lasted a couple of tickets, but I could be there with him for the last time.

In October of that year, Dad died in my arms. My hero and role model, the kindest and most loving father a child could have. Recently, I became a Dodgers owner, joining an incredible group of people. The more I reflect on this momentous step in my life, the more I realize that, in essence, it is about honoring Dad and the opportunities that this great nation offered to my immigrant family.

Last week, I arrived at Dodgers Stadium with my son for my first game as owner, 38 years after Dad took me to my first game in that same sanctuary. We arrived early.

When we were asked to defend the great American tradition, we got up and took off the Dodgers' hats, placing them firmly on our hearts for the "Star Spangled Banner." I looked at the flag of our country and thought about everything it represented: freedom, opportunity, hope (and, of course, baseball). In no other country in the world would my family's story be possible.

I thought about that touching moment in “Field of Dreams” when Ray asked his father if there is a place like heaven. I wondered what Dad would have said if he had asked if this was that place. I know your answer would have been simple and true: “No, son. That place is the United States. ”

Dodgers

Source: cnnespanol

All news articles on 2020-01-15

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