Today, America celebrates its Independence Day. I am an immigrant. I came to this country as a student and decided to stay. I eventually became a permanent resident and then a proud U.S. citizen, working my way through corporate America, living the American dream, always humble and grateful, however.

For years, celebrating the Fourth of July was never just a holiday and fireworks; it was a moment of meaning. It represented the ideals I had longed for—that all men are creates iqual, freedom of speech, democracy, opportunity, hope, life promises, and the belief that if you worked hard, you could build a future for yourself. You just had to find the right ingredients and follow the recipe.

Today, that feeling is, a bit “I no longer know what is going on!”

The America I once admired and am so proud to call home is becoming unrecognizable to me. The values that inspired me to make this country what it is, feel as though they are slipping away. It feels hijacked. The promise of America as the land of the free, the home of the brave, and a welcoming place for immigrants no longer feels as certain as it once did—and in some instances, it feels unwelcoming.

Immigrants have increasingly become targets of suspicion and blame, as though they are responsible for challenges far beyond their control. We learned that not all man are created equal.

As I watch the country metamorphosing, I can’t help but feel that America is beginning to resemble a few places I lived and left behind. It has become some kind of dystopia as she screams to be rescued. I never imagined that the democracy I came to embrace would one day feel so fragile and at risk. We are being tested. The uneasiness permeates the air. I know America will still be America but at who’s and what’s expense?

This Fourth of July, I am not mourning the America I left behind. I am mourning the America I believed I had found, as the great American experiment is crumbling right in front of our eyes but there is hope that she will eventually one day find herself again, back to her old glory days.Thank you for embracing me America. I am blessed. Happy 250th birthday; dang it, that’s a lot fried chicken and BBQ sauce!