I saw the America I love on my street tonight. Families sat on their lawns to watch Santa Clara's second-annual Independence Day fireworks display. As I walked the block, whites, blacks, Asians, Indians, Arabs, Hispanics, and more than I could discern camped on their lawns, talked in their languages, drank their beverages, and watched the lights in the sky. This is home, and our home is open to everyone. Bantu refugees are making "remarkable progress" in their new home of Tuscon, "given that they arrived with the most remarkable disadvantages," according to caseworkers quoted in The New York Times. The Bantus survived the trauma of tribal war in Somalia, discrimination in schools and work, and a rural ignorance of Western culture and modern life. They had never seen a clock. "I adjusted to time," Makai Osman said. "I was scared but I'm punctual now." From what I read and what I see, the times are adjusting to them. Or should I say us.