Naturalization Ceremony

July 10, 2026

Today, I sat in the Sylvia H. Rambo United States Courthouse and watched twenty-two people from ten different countries take the Oath of Allegiance. In that room, twenty-two completely different life stories converged into a single, profound moment: they became American citizens.

During the ceremony, one of the newly naturalized citizens stood up to speak. He shared his story of the last ten years—the opportunities America had given him, the life he had built, and the family he's raising here. I found myself moved to tears.

As the oath was administered and they were officially declared citizens, you could feel a collective weight lift from the shoulders of everyone in the room. It was a powerful reminder of what citizenship costs, and what it means. It made me think about my paternal great-grandmother, Apollonia.

She was born in a small mountain town in Italy. Widowed at age 22, she came to the United States just one year later in 1917. She was young, alone, and penniless. The odds were stacked against her.

She met my great-grandfather, Giuseppe, a fellow Italian immigrant in Pennsylvania. They married, started a life in Hershey, Pennsylvania, and went on to have eight children together. Apollonia and Giuseppe both worked for the Hershey Hotel. Apollonia worked in the laundry, and Giuseppe worked as a mechanic.

Though Giuseppe passed away in 1943 before he could be naturalized, Apollonia pressed on. On Thursday, May 23, 1946, at the age of 52, she stood alongside 32 others and officially became a United States citizen.