Native-born Americans take so much for granted. This is good; we are entitled to day-to-day security. If we obey the laws, we do not fear encarceration. If we are willing to work, we can pay our bills. Even if we are not willing to work, we expect to be fed and housed, at least for a while. We are not persecuted by the government if we are law abiding, even if we loudly disagree with national policy.
We grow up with these certainties and expect them. They are our entitlement. We step outside our country and this sense of entitlement may get us embarrassed or into trouble. Even then, we can petition the local embassy, to help us out. We rarely need to feel helpless.
We know this is not true everywhere. Many who come to America are political exiles. Some live here, yet with disdain and look to trip us, even harm our way of life. Some hate and plot to kill us.
In the midst of all the smug entitlement, prim disdain, and outright fanatical hatred, there is a small group of real Americans who are not native. They love this country and aren't afraid to tell us why.
They are the ones I want next to me when I tear up during the Star Spangled Banner. We can pass around the tissues after we cheer and applaud.