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A New American Life
11/6/2006 10:23 AMOn finally becoming an American citizen
I am excited because I got to vote today.
This is because last week I became an American citizen. I have had a fair amount of time to think about this decision since I moved here from England in 1964. But it seems like the right time.
I had been told that the tax advantages for heirs of citizens are better than for residents, so that was my original motivation. However, as I got more and more caught up in the process of becoming a citizen other values began to emerge. The famous test on American civics didn't fill me with any particular excitement. I was pleased that I knew the answers to all the questions without really studying, as a result of having been a reasonably engaged newspaper reader and TV viewer over the past decades.
It was at the first Boston Philharmonic concert of the season, at Mechanics Hall in Worcester, that the full implication of the decision began to sink in. It is a tradition at the Worcester concerts to begin each season by playing the National Anthem. I have always been rather opposed to jingoistic displays and usually try to avoid playing anthems at classical concerts. But this time I welcomed the opportunity.
Before starting to conduct, I turned to the audience and said: "We are beginning tonight's concert with a performance of the National Anthem. It never does any harm to remind ourselves what a privilege it is to live in this country. But this has special significance for me personally, because next week, I will become an American citizen" at which there was an outburst of prolonged applause. "This is not a decision I have taken lightly or rashly," I continued, "since I have lived here for forty two years. In this time, I have traveled the world as the conductor of the Boston Philharmonic AND as an Englishman. During this last period, the reputation and image of America around the world has become tarnished and I feel I want to take a stand now, as an American, because I believe, we can turn that around."
This was received with an extraordinarily vociferous ovation and the audience rose to its feet and, accompanied by the Boston Philharmonic in full glory, sang the most heartfelt rendition of the National Anthem that I have ever heard.
I noticed that several of the members of the orchestra had tears in their eyes and, when I turned around, I saw that many in the audience had too.
The next day I decided to do it again and again at the other two concerts that week-end. The reaction was the same each time. I was part of an overwhelming, open-hearted expression of solidarity. Each time some orchestra members and many members of the audience could be seen wiping away tears.
The actual swearing-in was to take place with many others on November 1st. However, I had met an old friend, Judge Mark Wolf, at a party earlier in the year and he had expressed a hope that he would preside when I became a citizen. Since he couldn't be available that day, he graciously agreed to hold a separate ceremony just for me at his chambers. I gathered a few close friends and we appeared at the appointed time, 12.30 p.m. October 31st, (Halloween) at the Court House.
What followed was something very far from what I had reason to expect. Judge Wolf, dressed in his judicial robes sat on the bench while Roz and sat at the plaintiff's table. Eleven close friends sat behind us. After the bailiff had taken me through the oath, and the Representative of the Commonwealth had read the proclamation, Judge Wolf delivered a speech about my life and some of the events that had taken me to this moment. I found myself extremely moved by the trouble he had taken to trace the journey of my life in such detail and even more so when he spoke of the special privilege of being an American, quoting Justice Brandeis, who defined citizenship as the "highest office in the land." When he finished, he took the most unusual step of inviting me to say a few words. He warned, in his most delicate and charming way, that if I were to be asked to say what was really in my heart, "it might last longer than a Wagner opera."
I spoke briefly of two things. I spoke of my father's deep and abiding debt to and love of England that had taken him and his family in when they escaped from the holocaust. I said that for my father each tax day, rather than being a time of stress and pressure, was a cherished opportunity for the family to express its gratitude to England for the gift of freedom, by joyfully paying every last penny that was owed. I said I could never forget, not could I renounce my ties with England, but that I was now transferring this loyalty and gratitude to the United States of America. I then said that there was one group that was not represented in the room, namely my students. I said that the previous Monday in my class at Walnut Hill I had asked the students, many of whom are from foreign countries, what words best described for them the special quality of being American. I had the list with me, by chance, and I read it out: Bold, Hard-working, Daring, uncompromising, inventive, diverse, stubborn, free, driving, generous, adventurous, explorative, big thinking, loving, passionate, intelligent, family-oriented, spirited, honest, team-playing, progressive, ambitious, enthusiastic, youthful, athletic, competitive, energetic, idealistic, hopeful dreamers. These qualities, offered, without pre-meditation by a group of 15-18 year-olds, seem to me to present a possibility to live into, for all of us. With these words, the formal ceremony was complete.
We then moved into one of the jury rooms where a beautiful luncheon had been prepared and, dare I mention it, a couple of bottles of excellent champagne were opened and drunk, by all except the Judge himself. Each person there represented an important part of my life: Roz, as life companion and guide; David St George as musical advisor and collaborator of 30 years; Jeri Asher as friend and Board member of the Boston Philharmonic for over 20 years; Sam Bruskin, member of the Boston Philharmonic for over twenty years and parent of two former students and members of the Youth Philharmonic, who now have major careers; Stephen Symchich, long term member of the Boston Philharmonic; John Page, former Zander Fellow and current assistant conductor of the Boston Philharmonic; Chris Lees, current Zander Fellow; Congressman Jay Kaufmann and his wife Kathy; Roz's assistant Charlene Hildebrand and my two beloved assistants including Leanna McGrath, who have both done so much to make my life work and who had worked hard to make this whole event happen. Sadly Mark Churchill, one of my dearest friends and the creator of all the ventures involving children with which I am involved, could not be there.
Each person present spoke briefly about their special relationship to me and something about the significance for each one of them of the ceremony. Most admitted that it had in some way deepened their sense of the value of being American, much in the way people often say attending a wedding renews their marriage vows. Jay Kaufmann presented me with a beautifully worded proclamation from the Commonwealth of Massachussets, welcoming me as a citizen. We spoke of politics and the law. It was also noted that the oath which I had to intone after the Bailiff had caused some real consternation, not only for me, but also for those listening, with its downward spiral, fear-based demands. Roz and I agreed that we would attempt to rewrite the oath, in such a way that it could both capture the solemnity of the action and speak to the responsibility and joy of citizenship.
It was a wonderful and memorable occasion. I went the next day to register to vote, even though the dead-line had passed. Apparently, there was some special dispensation that enabled me to slip under the wire. As a result I went with Roz this morning and delivered my vote for the first time in my life.
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