my life
n by Rebecca Morrison
Belonging to America
Rebecca Morrison (then age 20) at the Capitol in 1991
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EVER SINCE I was a girl in Iran, I loved the idea of America. I watched American movies and read American books. I coveted everything they represented: freedom, independence, equality. So when my parents sent me to an all-girl boarding school in California in 1984 (after my family had emigrated to Canada three years earlier), I thought I’d finally come home. During college at Georgetown University, my ideas about America became more refined but my adoration didn’t wane. Even though I wouldn’t become a citizen for a few more years, in my heart I already belonged to America. And when my kindhearted friend Sofia asked if I wanted to go to Cancun for spring break, I jumped at the chance to experience the spring break I had seen in Hollywood movies. By then it was 1991 and the Gulf War was in full swing, but the war was the last thing on our minds as we boarded the plane. Sitting in front of us was a pack of guys from New Jersey, already inebriated, on their way to making spring break decisions that would surely embarrass their parents. All were wearing sports logo-ed T-shirts (perfect for displaying their bulging biceps) and backward baseball caps, as is the way of the bro.
COURTESY PHOTO
It was one of the worst moments of my life. And also one of the best.
March/April 2021 n ArlingtonMagazine.com
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