Our Ellis Island Experience

Many of us who grew up in the United States were taught the highlights of Ellis Island. I’m sure we were all taught slightly different “facts,” depending on what region of the country we were in at the time. The main takeaway, however, was the same: thousands of immigrants—actually around 12 million migrants—passed through Ellis Island between 1892 and 1954, most of them from Europe, entering the United States through New York Harbor. Cue, “America” by Neil Diamond.

Their reasons for coming were as numerous as the stars in the sky. Some sought a way out of poverty or a better life for their families. Others wanted adventure and followed the promise of the “American Dream.” Some fled political or religious persecution. Some arrived alone; others came with their families. Whatever their reason, they all wanted a better life. They wanted to feel safe in a land that called to them.

One human, came in search for the skin tone the color of Cheeto.

When I was a child, I wanted to visit Ellis Island. I wanted to see where it all happened—where people crossed into a new land they would claim as home. I wanted to walk the paths they walked, to step where they stepped, and imagine myself in their shoes.

I never imagined I would someday take a similar path. I never thought I would leave the United States to seek refuge and safety in another country. Yet that is exactly what Mikey and I did today.

On January 9, 2026, at 09:00, Mikey and I met Magdalena, our immigration specialist at the steps of the Immigration Office in downtown Montevideo, Uruguay. We had appoints of the government. The purpose of the meeting was to formally file our applications for residency in Uruguay.

During our individual meetings, Magdalena served as our translator while the government official began filing the paperwork. Document after document we submitted was officially entered into the government system for review.

I signed three documents

1: to confirm my name, date of birth, and passport number were correct,
2: authorizing Magdalena access to the file as our immigration specialist, and
3: affirming that I have no criminal history.

The government official then stamped three documents with the Uruguayan seal and dated them. Each time she stamped the papers, I thought, This must be what it felt like for immigrants passing through Ellis Island. They must have been scared and excited about the potential future. They had arrived. They were leaving the old country behind. They had a new home.

Now, the government will review our applications and determine whether we will be granted residency. This process can take up to six months—or longer if files are incomplete. As of today, we are considered temporary residents of Uruguay. We do not yet have all the rights of permanent residents, but we no longer need to worry about our 90-day visitor status expiring on February 7. We are allowed to stay in the country indefinitely.

Our next step was to walk from the Immigration Office to the Cédula Office. A cédula is an identification card issued to every temporary resident, permanent resident, and citizen—children included.

Two key pieces of information appear on a cédula. The first is your cédula number, which is required for government documents, utilities, services, and even some retail transactions. Each cédula number is unique and will never be assigned to another person. Once we have our cédulas, we will no longer need to carry our passports as identification.

At the cédula office, our fingerprints were taken (now officially part of the government database), our photos were taken, and we signed electronically.

The second important item on the cédula is your signature. This signature is used to verify your identity when signing contracts or government documents. You sign, present your cédula, and that’s it.

I did encounter a small hiccup at the cédula office. I was asked to provide my spouse’s name. The clerk handed me a piece of paper and a pen, and I wrote, Michael D. Dedmon. She looked at the name, then at me—confused. She pointed to the surname. I wrote done and then at me. I said my spouse’s name. She pointed again. I repeated myself. She pointed to her wedding ring. I nodded. She pointed back to the surname.

You get the idea.

She asked me to wait. I did, while quietly wondering if she was getting ICE to deport me. Instead, she returned with a colleague who spoke English. He asked if the name I wrote was my spouse’s. I said yes. He glanced at the screen, smiled slightly, and said, “Oh, I understand.”

Apparently, he explained that my spouse is a man named Michael with the middle initial “D.” Yes—we are both named Michael. The age-old question strikes again: How do you tell each other apart?

Mikey later told me he had a similar experience with the spouse question, though his wasn’t quite as entertaining.

As we walked out the doors, I knew I had passed through the gates of my own Ellis Island. I was now, officially, part of the nation of Uruguay.

What happens next? Once granted residency, we can move freely within the country, leave and re-enter as we wish, and live here permanently. Since we are a married couple, in five years, we can apply for Uruguayan citizenship. That would involve a citizenship test, an oath, and turning in our U.S. passports in exchange for Uruguayan ones.

If you ask us today whether we plan to take that step, you’ll get two different answers depending on who you ask. I suppose we’ll find out in five years.

Most people will never experience what it was like to pass through Ellis Island. If you’re still living in or visiting the U.S., I recommend a trip to New York City to visit it. You may not get the full experience—but you might catch a glimpse of what we felt today.

January 9, 2025, has officially been added to our growing list of anniversaries.
It was a good one.

"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” Some may say I am being dramatic. I don’t think I am. I believe this is exactly how I felt.

Thank you for sticking with me to the end.
Be kind to one another—and be kind to yourself.