I am the Indian sister, the German daughter, the Irish niece.
I look around me and revel.
Blacks in the classrooms, laughing with the whites.
Mexicans playing ball in the field with the Spanish.
Asians and Euros, Orientals and Africans.
Playing and laughing, growing and sharing.
We are the younger generation, joining America as one.
We, too, are America.

I am the Indian sister, the German daughter, the Irish niece.
I look around me and cry.
Soldiers coming home from the war, shells of their former selves.
Young men and women scarred physically, mentally.
Families grieving when they learn that their loved ones are lossed.
Struggling and surviving, grieving and consoling.
They gave their lives to protect America, to keep it one.
They, too, were America.

I am the Indian sister, the German daughter, the Irish niece.
I look around me and rejoice.
Healthy babies being born into happy families.
Immigrants coming into this country to start anew.
Foreignors taking time to learn our customs and language.
Celebrating and congratulating, learning and practicing.
They have come into this world to build America, to continue it as one.
They, too, will be America.