Indian Americans: America’s Shithole Success Story

I came to America 32 years ago with my former husband from India, a country that would surely qualify as what this president called a “shithole”: It is poor, underdeveloped and polluted, where—as one reader helpfully pointed out—people literally shit on the streets. Between my ex and me, we had two suitcases, $1,200 (the maximum foreign currency India allowed a couple to take out from the country), zero connections—and a ton of youthful obtuseness. Thanks to the last item, we saw only the possibilities of America and none of the challenges of making it in a new country where we had no family and few friends. Over the years, without ever collecting a dime in welfare, we managed to put ourselves through graduate school and our son, who is now working on his Ph.D. in economics, through one of the finest private schools in the country.
We are damn proud of

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