As I watched the testimony before the L.A. School Board by the bereaved mother of a young man slain by an illegal immigrant, my own immigrant roots on my mother's side of the family came to mind.My cousin just sent me some mementos from my recently-deceased uncle Frank (my mother's youngest brother), and among them was a little book that I had almost forgotten.  It is a poignant study of how immigrants of the 1920s embraced their cultural heritage and, at the same time, embraced their new country.  I can remember my mother reading some passages from it to me when I was quite young and being impressed and surprised that my mother had once spoken Czech, even though she was a second generation American. The book, in Czechoslovakian, is "A First Reader for the Czech Catholic Schools of America, for Sweet Youth-Illustrated" (thanks to Google Translate, quite an impressive tool).  My mother attended a Czech Catholic grade school in South Omaha (to this day a strong...(Read Full Post)