Dear Abigail, It has been a week since we arrived here in America. About a month ago, Mama and Papa decided that Russia was too dangerous for their two little girls. I'm eight now, and Gabriella's eleven. Since we were Jewish, people treated our family badly, and because of this, Papa yearned to live in America. He protested of only being allowed to have certain jobs, and being stuck as a rent collector. People threw contempt on him, and we were poverty-stricken. Mama fretted about the discrimination against Jews, and the number of us being prosecuted. If we went to America, Mama and Papa promised that we'd have more economic opportunities, as well as religious freedom.
Soon, the decision to immigrate to America became final. Papa decided…show more content… A United States Marine Hospital Service physician started inspecting first and second class. Mr. Fitz explained to me that the officials believed that first and second class passengers were superior to the steerage passengers, since they had more money and education. Also, since the officers had a better perception of them, their inspections were accelerated. When I complained about the unfairness of it, Mama shushed me. We were ushered onto a ferryboat that would take us to Ellis Island, the immigration processing center. As soon as we landed, officers pinned numbered tags on us. Papa disclosed to me that the tags would help identify us with the information they had from the ship's…show more content… First he examined my hands, eyes, and throat. Subsequently, he inspected my feet, legs, body, arms, face, and head. Then he asked me to walk twenty feet, while he asked me some basic questions. Mr. Fitz, Papa, Gabriella, and I passed through, but using white chalk, the doctor marked an "X" on Mama's coat. I didn't know what the "X" meant, but I saw that it caused my parents distress. Mama started to tear up, saying, "I was only dizzy!" I watched wondering as Mr. Fitz whispered to dad. Dad nodded and thanked him profusely. Dad then whispered to mom, and she tried to rub off the white chalk. When that didn't work, she turned her coat inside out. I was about to tell Mama that she was hiding the "X" when I suddenly remembered. On the steamship, while Mr. Fitz talked to my parents about the immigration process, I listened. He said that different white chalk marks meant different things. An "X" signified mental defection, which could lead to being deported. I never uttered a word about it
