Keeping alive the American Dream

Reed Ueda remembers the Tamale Man, a fixture in the multi-ethnic Los Angeles neighborhood in which he grew up. The street vendor hawked tamales from his beaten canteen truck, the beat of salsa music drifting down from the apartments above.

So when Ueda moved to Boston in the 1970s, the first thing he noticed was the scarcity of Mexican restaurants.

Now, says Ueda, my, how the times have changed. Driving to work, he points out the signs: Anna's Taqueira, Boca Grande, El Pelon Taqueria, Chipotle, and much, much more. The proliferation of fast food burrito options is his own personal index for Boston's increased diversity. Ueda, a third-generation Japanese American who is just as likely to have salsa on his plate as sushi, believes these commercial enterprises are a sign of a deeper cultural shift as international newcomers change the landscape of the city.

According to the Mayor's Office of the New Bostonians, foreign-born account for 26 percent of the city's population, representing more than 100 countries, including Russia, China, Brazil, Vietnam, and Ireland. In Dorchester alone, for example, people of color and immigrants - Vietnamese in particular - make up more than half the population.

Although the immigrant groups have changed, the dynamics of assimilation have not, says Ueda, a professor of immigration history at Tufts University. "Whether it's the Irish Catholics of yesterday or the immigrants of today, families face the same issues, striving for better opportunities in career and education while balancing between integration and cultural tradition."

You see them on the subway, on the streets, in your neighborhood. The faces change but the stories echo the same theme. An up-and-coming generation of immigrants empathetically proclaims: The American dream is still alive.