Today is that day in the month when a great group of immigrants stand in San Diego's Civic Center and swear allegiance to the United States of America and receive their certificates of citizenship.  Those of us who volunteer to help people register to vote are reassured each time we do this duty that America is indeed a wonderful country.  I wish we could manage to get all natural born citizens to trust and celebrate the idea and the reality of government in our democracy the way these new citizens do.  Riding my bicycle back home from the morning with other volunteers and with the glad new citizens, I kept  thinking about Walt Whitman's great poem,  "I Hear America Singing."

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand
     singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morning, or
     at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of
     the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows,
     robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

And... I'm learning to use my cell phone to take a "selfie"... well, almost learning how to do it.