On the recordFebruary 6, 2017
I rise today as a product of New Jersey public schools, the son of Cuban refugees whose parents decided to leave everything behind because they did not like the dictatorship from the right and did not like what they saw in the Sierra Maestra, as the Castros were seeking to overthrow that government from the right, and who fled their own country in order to seek a better life in the United States. They were the lucky ones. They saw the handwriting on the wall, and they got out before the true brutality of the Castro regime took hold in Cuba. When they arrived here, they had nothing more than the promise of a brighter future and, if not for them, then for their children. In so many ways, it is the quintessential immigrant story; indeed, the quintessential American story. My mother worked as a seamstress in the factories of New Jersey. My father was an itinerant carpenter. We didn't have a lot of money--just enough to live in a small apartment in a tenement in Union City and put food on the table. But that was plenty. It was plenty because my parents knew that living in America gave their children access to a free public education, and they always taught us that an education was the key toward a better life. Growing up, I was a quiet kid. I was very studious. I got good grades, but I struggled with public speaking. I know some of my colleagues wouldn't believe that today, but it is true.…
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