Research Conference Fear

Out of all the people in my seminar class, I was one of the few people who presented representing what our seminar is about.

I am in the Poetry and Law seminar. This seminar teaches us about different aspects and types of the law, while connecting it to poetry. We connect it to poetry by reading some related to the topic and creating our own.

I was chosen to share my poem on Immigration rights. The legal term for immigration rights is defined as... determining whether a person is an alien, and associated legal rights, duties, and obligations of aliens in the United states. It also provides means by which certain aliens can become naturalized citizens with full rights of citizenship. Even though I am fifth generation here in the US, my grandparents and great-grandparents were immigrants from the Philippines. Because of this, I based my poem on one of my great-grandfathers who was a prisoner of war during World War II. (the poem is posted below)

Beforehand, I was confident and not nervous because I have done public speaking multiple times before. That all went away, especially when I realized that the date was very special. It was the same great-grandfather's 6th year death anniversary. Once I realized this, I got a bit emotional because he was an influential figure in my life growing up. As I read the poem, I got a little teary eyed. After I read it, I can feel the love and support of the audience because they know how it feels when you loose  a loved one.
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Salamat Po

Los Angeles, November 3, 2010...Severino Rebucal dies of heart failure due to old age.

During World War II, Severino Rebucal was named among one of the heroes of the Philippines for being one of the few survivors as a Prisoner of War that was controlled by Japan.

Go back to the present...

I'm 12 years old at the time and basically sees her great-grandfather die right in front of her as she gets ready for school.

As a little girl I don't know what to do, so I scream for help and my mom and auntie come running and see him on the floor.

In a panic we call 911 and do everything they say as we wait for the fire department to come with medical help.

1.5 hours later, everyone is at the house as he was pronounced dead.

I am balling as one one of the most influential people in my life is now gone. 

Fast forward 2 weeks later...

"Where is the flag from the president that we were promised?" "I'm sorry ma'am, but we are still trying to finalize the paperwork." "But I sent those in 2 weeks ago, and you said that is should be ready in time for the funeral."

That was the conversation between my grandma and the people at the cemetery. Even though my family was immediately granted citizenship to the Us, we weren't always granted our rights. 

Just because my great-grandfather came from another country, but served a different one shouldn't matter.

This shouldn't have taken so long, that President Obama had to step in and send it to us as priority mail.

My people have served this country for too long to go through this.

My family shouldn't have to wait a month for a flag that was rightfully our because of the sacrifice that my great-grandfather made for this country.