6/23 His seat is at the top of the table. He brings beer for the men, with cooler sleeves around the bottles. He brings a second bottle, even though I’m hardly finished with the first, and tells me it’s okay if I don’t want it. He lays his hand on my back, not just briefly, but long and decidedly. The fact that some immigrants get college for free bothers him deeply – his voice almost shaking – when he had to pay so much for his own kids. I tell him the stages of my process: seven years visa, six years green card, one year naturalization. He says I applaud you.