American dream alive, well

  • Published
  • By Staff Sgt. Cat Casaigne
  • 355th Wing Public Affairs
DAVIS-MONTHAN AIR FORCE BASE, Ariz. (AFPN) --  I am a product of the American Dream.

I was raised on the concept that in America hard work and sheer determination can lead to a better life than you ever thought possible for your family.

As I helped my grandmother cook, or as my grandfather walked me to school, I was reminded of the opportunities and blessings America has bestowed on my family.

My grandparents were born in Malta, a tiny island in the Mediterranean south of Sicily, Italy. My grandfather’s family ran a successful hotel business and my grandfather had the benefits of privileged childhood. My grandmother’s family, in comparison, was much more humble. She was one of 11 children and her father was a nurse.

When my grandmother was in fifth grade and my grandfather in sixth, their childhoods were shattered. Malta, at the time an English commonwealth, entered World War II. Because of its strategic naval location, Malta would become the most heavily bombed nation (per square mile) of the war.

My grandmother was pulled from school and my grandfather from his tutors to run to the shelters for cover during countless air raids. Soon, all school lessons stopped and staying alive became the name of the game. Once, my grandmother was in church during an air raid. A bomb broke through the dome of the church. Luckily, it did not go off.

Food was scarce. My grandmother’s father would sneak food from the hospital to feed his children. Most of the time, he could only manage enough for one, which they would all split. My grandmother tells a story where her father sneaked home a cupcake and divided it into 11 pieces for the children.

My grandfather does not like to talk about the hardships his family endured.

As soon as my grandfather was old enough, he joined the English Royal Navy. Because of his hotel background and upper-class upbringing, he was assigned as Prince Phillip’s steward. He served until the end of the war and went back to Malta.

Like most families there, his had lost everything in the devastation of the war. The hotel business was gone and with it, his family's place in upper society.

Having nothing, he decided to go to Canada to start his own life. About that same time he met my grandmother. However, when she would not leave her family and marry him, he left for Canada.

While living in Canada, he wrote letters to my grandmother. Then one day she got a letter saying he was coming back to visit his father and hoped to see her. He set sail for Malta. It proved to be a providential trip. He was there for a few months and sailed back to Canada with his new bride.

He worked in Canada where he and my grandmother had all of their five children. Then, when the oldest was 8 years old, they moved to Ohio, then to Detroit, where he landed a job as a shift supervisor for General Motors.

My grandparents lived in Detroit, raising their children on the customs and values of a country they left behind. Always proud, my grandparents tried to teach their children to speak Maltese, but being surrounded by English they never fully spoke Maltese, though they all understood it.

More than 50 years after getting off the boat, my grandparents still live in Detroit and continue to tell the same stories of hardship and overcoming adversity they told me as they cooked and walked me to school.

They remain the cornerstone of our family and represent everything we aspire to be. For 23 years I have listened to their stories and I never tire of them. They tell our family’s history, but more importantly, they tell what we are capable of overcoming.

My grandparents didn’t see the American Dream as fame or fortune. To them, the American Dream was opportunity -- opportunities for all 22 of their grandchildren go to college.

No, we are not monetarily rich, but we are rich in family, love and pride. As one of the oldest of their grandchildren, I am most proud of their courage. To leave family and friends for an unfamiliar land where no one speaks your language and, in the case of my grandmother, you hardly speak theirs takes courage I will never know. To never see your parents again so you can chase a dream of a better life is something I could not do. But I would never have too.

I am fortunate to I serve and live in a country where people immigrate every day seeking the American Dream. They know only America can provide them with the life they want.

The American Dream is alive and well. It is the reason I only want to live in America, where my version stands a chance of coming true, thanks to the stepping stone my grandparents laid for me.