[Congressional Record Volume 141, Number 153 (Thursday, September 28, 1995)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E1866]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                         TRIBUTE TO MARY DWYER

                                 ______


                           HON. FLOYD SPENCE

                           of south carolina

                    in the house of representatives

                      Thursday, September 28, 1995

  Mr. SPENCE. Mr. Speaker, I rise to bring to the attention of my 
colleagues an article that appeared in the September 20, 1995, edition 
of The Lexington County Chronicle. I believe that this account of the 
impressions of a recently naturalized citizen, who resides in the 
Second Congressional District of South Carolina, is an eloquent 
statement of what it truly means to be an American.

                    On Becoming an American Citizen

       (Mary Dwyer, a Pirelli Cable employee in Lexington, shared 
     these thoughts on her family's naturalization at a recent 
     Lexington County Toastmasters meeting.)

       I am proud that I am a naturalized, certified, 100% 
     American! It seems like just yesterday that my husband and 
     our then 15-month-old son and I arrived at the airport in 
     Atlanta on a 90 deg. day and thought that the days couldn't 
     get hotter. How wrong we were!
       We had gone through the bureaucratic machinery of the 
     Immigration and Naturalization Service. We had completed 
     reams of forms, been checked by the FBI, had provided police 
     reports from every city we had lived in since we were 16 
     years old. We had gone through the complete medical exam 
     including an AIDS test. We had prepared for our interview 
     with the American Embassy by studying the geography, history, 
     and current affairs of the United States. The only question 
     we were asked was if we intended to go on welfare.
       We had paid hundreds of dollars to process our paperwork. 
     We had sold our home, our cars, our furniture, packed our 
     clothes, our books, our special memories, quit our jobs, 
     waved good-by to our friends, kissed our families, and with 
     mixed emotions embarked on our journey to the New World, as 
     so many millions had done before.
       We stood in line at the Atlanta airport, my son tired, 
     hungry and crying in my husband's arms while I held the 
     envelopes containing our chest x-rays which we were told not 
     to bend. I thought to myself how unsure the future was, how 
     disheveled we were after the long eight-hour flight, and how 
     humiliated I was standing like this waiting to be 
     fingerprinted and issued a green card giving me the status of 
     ``resident alien.''
       I rehashed our decision to come to the United States. We 
     both had good jobs, promising careers, a comfortable life-
     style with our friends and families. What has possessed us to 
     throw it away for the uncertainty of life in a new country? 
     My self-confidence, once strong and unshakable, was wavering.
       I looked at my son and wondered if I had done the right 
     thing for him. I questioned my adequacy as a mother. But the 
     decision had been reached, the commitment made. It was time 
     to extricate myself from self pity and face the consequences 
     and responsibilities.
       Then an Immigration and Naturalization Service agent picked 
     us out of the long line and brought us to the INS office. She 
     was a kind lady--an unbureaucratic bureaucrat. I had dreaded 
     dealing with the INS. I recalled how nasty some INS agents 
     at Kennedy Airport had been. Meeting the INS agent in 
     Atlanta began my ever evolving understanding of the 
     differences between Northerners and Southerners.
       Since then, our understanding of several aspects of 
     American life has been enhanced. I have eaten grits and okra, 
     watched people shag, and been introduced to ``Saturday Night 
     Live'' and ``Gilligan's Island.'' I've learned that a Super 
     Bowl is a football game, not an oversized toilet. I gained 
     first hand knowledge of medicine in this country after my 
     husband severed his hand, our son, then age two, amputated a 
     finger, and best of all, the birth of our second son at 
     Richland Memorial Hospital five years ago. I've volunteered 
     with the Boy Scouts, Sistercare, United Way, and the March of 
     Dimes. I've learned to drive on the right side of the road 
     and how to express my dissatisfaction with other drivers. 
     Through experience, I have realized that South Carolina is my 
     home and I never want to stray.
       We felt confident when we applied for our American 
     citizenship in 1994. We completed reams of forms and sent 
     lots of money to the INS. We answered silly questions such as 
     ``Do you intend to overthrow the government of the United 
     States of America?''
       We studied for our interview. In Charleston, a 
     professional, competent and likable gentleman determined our 
     ability to read and write English and told us he could find 
     no reason why we could not become American citizens. We were 
     thrilled and celebrated with Wendy's hamburgers while we 
     rushed back so that my husband could get to school on time. 
     Education is important to us. That my husband could finish 
     his degree part-time was a major factor in coming here.
       After about four months, we received notification that we 
     would be sworn in as citizens in Charleston on July 26, 1995. 
     We arrived early, excited but sad, too, that we had neither 
     family nor friends with whom to share this important day. How 
     delighted and grateful we were to see that Louise Farley, of 
     the Lexington County Toastmasters, and her daughter had made 
     the journey from Lexington to add to our joy. This was the 
     moment we had been waiting for for eight years.
       The wonderful people of this country have made us feel 
     welcome. But becoming an American cements that feeling of 
     place and acceptance. I feel privileged that I can vote and 
     will take every opportunity to do so.

                          ____________________