Celebrating Diversity at Resurrection - Immigration Stories
Each week, we share parishioners' immigration stories in our "Celebrating Diversity" series. In Pope Francis' third encyclical he wrote, "If every human being possesses an inalienable dignity, if all people are my brothers and sisters, and if the world truly belongs to everyone, then it matters little whether my neighbor was born in my country or elsewhere." Sometimes the best way to learn about others is to simply listen. Let us pray God opens our ears to new experiences, our minds to new ideas, and our hearts to new possibilities.
Alicia Van Pelt's Immigration Story
PART 1:
I have been a parishioner at Resurrection since the second mass after coming to the US as a Peace Corps bride. My husband was an American volunteer in Chile for two years. I met him at the University of Concepcion Catholic Parish, where he was teaching nuclear physics and I was a nursing student. We were married in April and came back from Chile to Connecticut that December 1966 to meet his family. I felt very welcomed by my husband’s family even though our cultures were very different. I believe the US was welcoming to me. I don’t think US citizens had known many Chileans as immigrants (as people from Mexico or Puerto Rico or Guatemala) so I did not feel a prejudice.
Due to my husband's graduate schooling, we bounced from Connecticut to Minnesota and ended up in Michigan with four children along the way. My husband was
teaching at a community college while I was home raising our children and being a part time student at the same college. I had a different upbringing with a maid (and sometimes two) helping at home. My job growing up was to be a good student and set a good example for my younger siblings, so I had to adjust to “cleaning up after yourself” in the US. After ten years of marriage, my husband and I divorced, and I went to U of M full time while raising those four children. I had to learn to drive before I could attend college, but I never had to deal with residency or citizenship problems as I became a citizen after a few years here. I eventually got my Bachelor in Fine Arts, Teaching degree K to 12, Media Specialist, and Master's in Library Science. With no relatives to help, U of M was my father and my mother while I was a student. Having many good neighbors and other foreign students’ wives going through similar experiences really helped. The University of Michigan (and the help of the Office of Continuing Education for women!) was where I felt welcome and at home: I was just one more foreign student. When I think of how I overcame all the problems of a foreign born mother, alone with children, I thank God I always had faith in Him. I am grateful God always protected my children, who today are all professionals and learned how to work hard as a way to get ahead in life. My children became: one teacher, one attorney, and two aerospace engineers.
PART 2:
My main problem was the language. I had studied English from 6th grade until 12th, since it was compulsory; the other compulsory languages were French and German. Since I loved language, I had taken 9 of the 12 English conversation courses offered by the Chilean/American Institute in Temuco where I grew up. The classes were expensive, but I applied for scholarships which were easy for me to obtain since I was the eldest of 13 children and my parents didn’t have the means to pay for private lessons. And the Institute knew I loved English! So upon moving to the US, I thought I knew English above the average Chilean, but the reality hit the moment I tried to answer a phone! Even if I had more English than the average Chilean, it was never enough to easily understand a regular conversation. I cannot imagine the level of difficulty a language barrier would present for a person who never studied it before! My children were not raised bilingually at home, but I tried. Their father was not frequently home, and I was always trying to learn English, so I was not as strict as other parents who spoke only Spanish at home.
Sometimes (to my childrens' dismay) I would bring my guitar and Chilean folk music to their schools for cultural events. We continue Chilean traditions of music as well as foods, including sopaipillas, pan amasado, empanadas, pebre, ensalada de tomates, asado a la olla, and leche con plátano. Since I grew up in a different time and culture, I tried to teach my children through photos of relatives and their tremendous love, despite the distance and time without visiting. I know my stories inspired them, and they put those stories together with the characters of my stories when they finally met.
An important Chilean tradition from my upbringing was an annual gathering with my cousins, uncles, aunts, and my maternal grandmother near a river, lake, ocean, or vineyards. Those are precious memories all my cousins have kept forever: the close family ties with 53 cousins from a family of ten children, of whom I am the second born. In December 1999, my maternal family in Chile organized a family reunion and three of my four children attended with me. My children were fascinated meeting all those relatives they had never met: my stories were true! In the recent years, political upheavals in Chile interrupted my children and grandchildren's ability to visit from fear of innocent involvement in the political demostrations involving police and smoke bombs in the streets. I still try to go to Chile every two years, but have not visited in three years due to strict COVID policies. My mother died a year ago and I was only able to view the funeral online. I am so grateful for my large family and its great love, all descending from a grandmother I still love and respect and a grandfather I never knew.
To send your ancestral and personal stories of immigration, contact Christina Potkay at cpotkay@gmail.com or 734-646-3934.
“I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me.”