First in the Family

by Thea Khat

“I Pledge Allegiance to the flag of the United States of America,” myself and a few others were reciting this American creed in front of a judge. We were on our way to becoming United States citizen. The process was terribly long and it was all worth the little paper saying we were citizens. I never dreamed of ever being a citizen here, because my life was going so wrong. My father had just died of a brain aneurysm. I was preparing to go to college in the fall and I had an alien registration card saying that I was a permanent resident. That was good enough for anything. My father had mention that he wanted us to all become citizens because he watched on the news how some Mexicans were being transported back to Mexico upon entering the United States. He thought that would happen to us one day. I wanted to follow his wishes.

For one to become a citizen, they have to fill out a petition stating why they want to become a citizen. They then filled out many applications, and pay over 500 dollars to the INS. A local agency helped with this process. It was at the Catholic Center; the nun who was in charge was Sister Ruth Ann Walker. She helped me through this long process. All I had to do was the paper work and she supplied me with the questionnaire, which was asked during the testing. She told me to study these 100 questions; INS would only pick twenty to ask. She said that INS would contact me in a few months.

A few months passed, I received a letter from the INS, it stated that they received my petition and wanted me to come down for an interview. I was so excited; I had been working so hard to memorize these 100 questions, and finally I could show off my hard work. The nearest INS headquarters was in Kansas City, Missouri. I went onto Map Quest over the Internet and found directions and my mother, sister, and little brother and I were on our way. As I was driving, my mother and sister would take turns asking me questions to refresh my memory. I don't know why we had to learn all these; I don't recall ever having to know all of these in any of my social studies classes in high school.

When we arrived, there were many people in front of the INS building camping out. It looked like they were waiting to purchase N'SYNC's concert tickets. I predicted they didn't want to be late for their interview and miss out on an opportunity for another type of freedom. We were waiting for many hours, finally they called my name. My mother suggested that we pray to the great Buddha for guidance, for I would be the first to become a citizen in my family and grant my father’s wish.

The office was separated into many smaller work stations, which seemed as big as a walk in closet. The INS officer who was assigned to interview me said that he would ask three sections of questions. As I sat there waiting for him to asked me the questions, my palms wouldn't stop sweating, my mind was thinking the most bizarre thoughts on how I would disappoint my family if I didn't pass.

“State your name,” the officer asked.
“Thea Khat,” I said. Why did he ask me this question? He knew who I was.
“What is your address?” he asked.
“1500 West Grand apartment W-4,” I answered.
“When is your birth date and where were you born?” he asked.
“I was born in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, September 18, 1979,” I stated.
“Congratulations Miss. Khat, you just passed your oral test. I can tell that you can speak English well,” he said.

He then asked me to write a few sentences down. This is the part of the test that he would know if I could write in English, which I showed him with no difficulty. He said the next test I had to answer verbally. He said the questions are random for each interview.

“Who was the 17th president?” he asked.
“Andrew Johnson,” I said with a smile.
“Who wrote the Declaration of Independent?” he questioned.
“Thomas Jefferson,” I said. He followed with 18 more questions.

After the interview he told me that I had passed, missing by only one question. I had to tell him what the 1st 13 colonies. I only listed 11. I'm not mad; I had questioned some of my American friends and they couldn't tell me at all. He congratulated me, and escorted me to another room where I had my fingerprints and picture taken. He said that I should receive another letter in a few months to tell me when the Naturalization ceremony would be held. As I walked back to the waiting room, I looked at my mother who was waiting patiently. I knew her anticipation would be nerve wrecking; I wanted to play a trick on her.

“Mom, I didn't pass,” I said as I shook my head no. I saw the looked of disappointment in her face. I knew that she had her hopes up so high. She had faith, that I would pass this test.
“Thea it's ok, you have two more tries,” she said.
“Just kidding, Mom I only missed one; I didn't get all of the 13 colonies.” I burst out laughing. “I just wanted to play a joke on you.” She looked at me like a big weight had been lifting off her chest.

A few months later I took another trip to Kansas City, Missouri. I arrived as a legal permanent alien, and left an American citizen. I had granted my father’s wish, I was a citizen, and I wouldn't be deported. I felt really good that I had had the chance to make my mother proud. As I was there, in front of the judge, I was sworn in, along with the other lucky individuals who had made it. I felt proud to put my right hand over my chest.

“I pledge allegiance to the flag, of the United States Of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all,” we all said, while some had tears running down there checks.

“Congratulations, presenting the new citizens of America,” the judge announced as he dismissed us. I was now a US citizen.

A True Story

by Thea Khat

Cambodia had been going through a Marxist revolution. Seven years had passed and the country which was known for the beautiful ruins and architect looked like hurricane Katrina went through and wiped everything away.

The year was 1979, millions already murdered, and thousands were being executed each day for having financial independence or simply being educated. The whole country was forced to obey under the direction of one man, Pol Pot. What was left of the population was enslaved in large prison work camps. Husbands were separated from their wives, and children over the age of six were taken and trained to kill. Meals were given by the soldiers guarding the camp. Sometimes they were only given a small bowl of rice for their twelve hours of labor.

The entire country lived in this condition. Many had plans to escape and many attempted. The souls who made it to the border of Thailand would be free. Those who were caught were killed and their bodies were displayed to make examples of.

This particular day the Kingdom of Cambodia would be at its worst time. Word spread around that the Vietnamese were advancing, and they were told to take guard.

My parents lived in those conditions for seven years, during the process my mother attempted to raise two children, both of whom died of starvation. Early in September, at eight and a half months pregnant, my mother decided that she would not lose another innocent child to this inferno. My parents had heard rumors about a safe area in Thailand, and they planned their escape. Two families, my grandparents and my older sister, left that night. They lit incense and prayed to the great Buddha for a safe journey.

For one to escape Cambodia, at this time, you had to choose un-traveled routes; cutting through jungles, climbing mountains, and crossing rivers, that were filled with dead corpses. They even had to travel though these condition without shoes. They had no food to carry since all the food was held but the soldiers. They were all very hungry and ate whatever they could find. Each step was treacherous not knowing what might be underneath your feet. Landmines were a constant danger.

The stress was almost unbearable. At eight and a half months pregnant, it’s a surprise my mother didn’t give birth or even die on the first day. Somewhere along the way she had me. She gave birth to me underneath an abandoned house. My mother had wished that she would have given birth in Thailand, but she wasn’t so lucky. Their journey had become more dangerous with the arrival of me; it would be so much harder now to stay quiet. After many miles of walking, my parents and their companions decided to choose separate paths. My grandparents took my sister, since it was too hard to carry a newborn and care for a young child. They all agreed to meet again after crossing the border.

They proceeded with their journey for they were close to a safe zone. They weren’t moving as fast, my mother was sick, and I was also sick. My mother had to cover my mouth many times to muffle out the sound, as they continued on their path. Fear shadowed their every step. They would be killed if the Cambodian army patrol saw or heard them. They crept along quietly. Both my mother and father took turns carrying me. My mother was so exhausted, and my father had cuts all over his arm from pushing the leaves and thorns away from their walk way. Finally, after they passed a small hill, they were free. Seeing the end was a huge relief, their lives would be spared. As they walked closer, they saw a flag. It was white, with two red lines intersecting each other.

“It’s the American Red Cross,” my father sighed in relief. He remembered that some were talking about the flag back in the prison camp.
“Welcome,” said one Americans who was assessing the entrance. “We have...” he paused and took his hand and brought it to his mouth, then made a chewing motion.

My parents nodded their head, yes. They then asked if there was any milk to feed their newborn baby. A Thai solder came and gave my parents and others a few bags of food. They also gave them bamboo and wood to build their home. A recorder came and asked for their names so they could register them in. The recorder told them that by registering them in, it was a chance for them to enter any country of their choice; in Northern America or Europe. They would also be provided with food, medical attention as needed and vocational training. Unimaginable opportunities for people that were living off a bowl of rice a day before leaving a country that was on the edge of hell.

Now that I’m 26 years old, I can only imagine what my parents and others went through, and doubt that I could do the same. The stories they told me were of an unbearable place and time. Their long hard journey was all worth it. By leaving Cambodia my parents saved me from their other two children’s fate. Of my two living siblings, I am the only one that was born in Cambodia in the dirt under an abandoned house. My parents are my heroes. They were survivors; they walked through danger so their children could have a free life.


Wow. And we complain when our cable goes out...

Send Me Your Stuff

If you have anything you'd like to submit -- poetry, short stories, comments -- just get it to me. If I like it, I'll put it on the site. Like these two poems from Richard Long.

2 Long 2 Wait

As I sit here and contemplate
If forever is 2 long 2 wait
When you meet someone that is truly great
Is it destiny or is it fate
I close my eyes and I often wonder
Do I hear the lightning and see the thunder
Are all of my thoughts so entwined
That I may never be able 2 find
The most important thing that I seek
I will never know until I speak
So as this life passes by
I can't help but 2 sometimes cry
I ask God why
and promise 2 try
But I've tried my best
So now it's time 2 rest
As I lay my hands upon my chest
Waiting 2 feel your soft caress
I close my eyes and ask one more time
Is this the answer I've been trying 2 find
I truly believe this is my fate
And forever is never 2 long 2 wait

Richard Long

The Demons from my Past

I feel the demons from my past
Creeping closer every day
The echoes from an old lifestyle
That I swore to throw away
It hurts, I see it, but I pay it no mind
It's all going to crash it's just a matter of time
When it hits my pride will be gone
What was the point of being so strong?
My future depends upon an act of change
Before it hits and I'm stuck in pain
It's never too late to stand for a belief
A belief that I know I am supposed to be
A mentor, a role model, someone to look up to
Helping people that can't make it through
I took the beaten path for this very reason
It's my destiny just as summer is a season
So starting today I'm going to solw it down
Before it's too late and again I'm not around.

Richard Long