With
so much debate going on these days in the
Senate about making English the national
language of the United States, I am amazed
that it is even necessary to debate this
issue. It goes without saying that
English is the official language.
There is no need for debate. How would
we communicate or do business if suddenly
the millions of Poles in Chicago decided
that Polish should be the main language of
this country? How about if the
thousands of Vietnamese in California
decided they wanted us to speak their
language? Or the millions of Cubans,
Puerto Ricans, Brazilians, and now we even
have Chinese floating up illegally on
Florida shores, clamoring for their own
languages. We would end up like
Europe. Yet, everyone I know speaks
English in Europe. English is a
commercial language; not very romantic, but
effective. I think it is the best
language in which to sign a contract;
clear and to the point. Spanish
should be the language of poetry, they
have so many wonderful adjectives missing
in English grammar. I can't imagine reading
Martin Fierro, the history of the
Argentinean gaucho in any other
language. But perhaps there is
nobody better than the French when it comes
to insults. However, the Italians
might debate this. They like to insult
your family, and that really hits home
- usually provokes fist fights.
The French usually back away from a fight.
So why all the brouhaha over
what language we communicate in on these
shores?
It
seems that as we become fragmented from
our families and leave our roots,
dehumanized by computers, and told that our
social security numbers, pin numbers,
driver's license numbers, bank numbers,
medical account numbers, cell phone numbers,
serial numbers, etc., are more important
than our names, and that really
offends people. They strive to hold on
to their cultures as a means of identity.
Nobody wants to be just a number!
There are no emotions in numbers, unless of
course, you happen to win the lottery
numbers, and suddenly there is a surplus of
feelings. Long lost friends and family
members who were not on speaking terms with
you, suddenly love you. I am currently
writing a romantic comedy called COMING AND
GOING, about numbers.
So,
on May 29th, Memorial Day, I will fly OLD
GLORY, because I am proud to be part of this
melting pot called United States of America.
According to the Oxford American Dictionary,
a patriot is: "a person who is
devoted to and ready to support and defend
his/her country; a nationalist, loyalist,
and flag-waver." Even though I
was not born in this country, I guess I
am a flag-waver.
The majority
of Hispanics are Roman Catholics who owe their
allegiance to The Vatican, a foreign
country, but little thought is given to the
country that feeds them, houses them, and
gives them opportunities that their own
countries will not afford them.
Delving back into history, you will find
that most of the land in South and Central
America is in the hands of the oligarchs,
which was granted to them generations
ago by the Spanish crown (loyal to The
Vatican.) It is still that way, so it
is natural that immigrants would want to
come to this country for better economic
opportunities. To paraphrase Vince
Lombardi, success is achieved by the
combined efforts of each individual, that
means, when in Rome do as the Romans do:
Speak English!
A
good example would be: a Russian Jew named
Israel Baline, who spoke Russian as a child
but when he mastered English became a
tremendous success.
You know him better as
Irving Berlin, who started his career as a
poor street singer, singing waiter, and
later developed his talent by becoming a
creative lyricist, even though he could not
play the piano or read music. In 1909
he wrote, Go Home, which sold over 200,000
copies. In 1910 his lyrics became even more
popular with his hit Alexander's Ragtime
Band. One of my favorites is the
sentimental, When I Lost You.
Berlin joined the Army when America went to
war and wrote, Oh! How I Hate To Get Up In
The Morning, which also became an instant
hit. In 1939 he wrote the song for which
he will always be remembered, GOD BLESS
AMERICA; which I think should be the
national anthem because it is written in a
key that everybody can sing. He didn't
insist it be sung in Russian. Mon Dieu!
I was falling off my chair when I heard the
Mexicans singing our national anthem in
Spanish. If that's the case, I insist
they sing their national anthem in Gaelic.
After the war, Irving Berlin produced
some very singable and memorable music for
films and theatre such as: Call Me
Madam, Annie Get Your Gun, There's No
Business Like Show Business, Sayonara,
Easter Parade, and White Christmas, to name
a few.
In
my book, he captured the essence of what
America is all about. He donated
all his royalties from God Bless America to
the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts to thank
this country because he refused to
"capitalize on patriotism."
