Land Of The Second Chance

          Burning Fields, I bow my head and bend my back

          And I will kneel, I’ll give the angels thanks

          For bringing me here and guiding my hand

          In this land, The Land of the Second Chance

I've had this ballad on repeat for a few days now:  preparation for Labor Day as a day of faith.  The catchy tune and chorus draw one in.  The need to catch all the story calls for a replay:  the story of an Italian immigrant reflecting on the second chance at life he found as an Australian immigrant.

I wish I could link to the song directly, but it is by a little known independent Australian band:  The Ordinary Fear of God.  The video is available on the band's Myspace page.  You might recognize the voice if you listen as you read.  If you watch, you will certainly recognize the lead singer.  I've also included links to the band's album site for the lyrics, as well to the story behind the lyrics.

This lyric stands at the crossroads of faith and life.  Though the foundation beneath the lyric is never preached directly, it definitely provides support for each verse:  the dignity and value of work and the natural right to it.  Perfect fodder for Labor Day reflection.  The song is also about looking back on the sometimes drastic turns in one's history and giving thanks for the Hand that turns apparent endings into new beginnings.

As a Dehonian, there is something almost magnetic about wanting to hear the life story of someone whose labor harvested the sugar on the table, and later installed windows for a living.  (How often am I so busy looking through windows that I don't consider looking at them to consider the bent back, skills, and story of the person who put it there?)

As a decendent of immigrants, there is something about the lyric that reminds me of my ancestors.  Mario's tale of leaving a war-torn Italy, finding love in unexpected places, and winding road of employment is familiar.  I have a Great Grandmother who fell in love with my Great Grandfather while dating his brother.  There is the story of two brothers who traveled the country by train, bike, and foot.  Those early generations were day laborers, hired hands, cigar makers, professional photographers, lumber workers, and for the most part:  eventually farmers and ranchers.  My family is not unique.  Unless you are Native American, or of African decent:  then I would bet you have similar stories of your immigrant ancestors.

Immigration is a touchy issue today, globally.  Citizens from around the globe are not sure what to do with immigrant and migrant populations.  In the United States, we are not sure how to respond:  on one border, we are building a wall and sending soldiers to guard it.  On another, we have a beacon and the literally forged words:  "Give me your tired, your poor ... the refuse of your teeming shore ...  send these, the homeless, the tempest-tost to me."   As a man of faith, I believe that God's angels were guiding my immigrant ancestors through the twists and turns of life, love, and labor.  I can do nothing authentic but stand behind the conviction that this country is for those who need labor and a second chance:  open the doors.

This song inspires me to see the world as an immgrant, and bend my back and give thanks.  In my own background, people with names like Symonds, Tracy, Wiseman, Heslop, Lemke, Yusko, and Gilbert found a land of the second chance.  How can I do anything other than light the torch and open the shore for those with names like Nguyen, Martinez, Hussain, Milena, Kim, Garcia, Ahmed, and Liú?  I leave you with Mario's prayer of thanksgiving:

          A fortunate find for a lucky guy,
          The Land of the Second Chance!