Uncle Joseph

"My uncle did not look resigned and serene like most of the dead I have seen. Perhaps it was because his lips were swollen to twice their usual size. He looked as though he'd been punched. He also appeared anxious and shocked, as though he were having a horrible nightmare.

When was he last conscious? I wondered. What were his final thoughts? When did he realize he was dying? Was he afraid? Did he think it ironic that he would soon be the dead prisoner of the same government that had been occupying his country when he was born? In essence he was entering and exiting the world under the same flag. Never really sovereign, as his father had dreamed, never really free. What would he think of being buried here? Would he forever, proverbially, turn in his grave?"
(Page 250)

This passage really stayed with me for a few reasons. America, for many people living in different countries, really is a beacon of light or hope, or a land of fortune compared with their own misfortune and underprivileged lives. As a reader and an American, I really thought that once Uncle Joseph fled Haiti and got to America he would be safe. I feel saddened by what happened to him. Not only was he treated like a number and not a person, but he never even got a chance to see his family one last time. It's also a shame that he never wanted to leave Haiti and was finally forced to, and died in the process. I think Uncle Joseph's death was the most tragic because it was so unexpected, unjust, and happened in such an undignified way.