My father worked with his hands beginning at the age of 10, and he never stopped, right up to the very day he walked off the job site and into the hospital, where he swiftly passed away. He never wanted my brothers to take over the landscaping business he had built. He wanted them to wear suits and ties and sit behind desks.

You probably know this story; there’s a good chance it’s your own: Our ancestors wanted for us lives that were easier than their own, lighter lives, lives gentler on our bodies, minds and spirits. In order to give us these things, they gave us to America, and the hope and opportunity she promises. To give America, something has to be taken, which is often the authenticity and boisterousness inherent in the immigrant generation.