I had a very Anglo-Saxon, very Protestant uncle (“How do you like your new doctor, Uncle Bradford?” “He is, um, not of our ethnic group.”)
In spite of his belief in the primacy of the WASP, he repeatedly told me, “This country belongs to those who are willing to work for it.”
After the Vietnam War, he marveled at the industry and thrift of Vietnamese immigrants. If he were alive today, he would undoubtedly feel the same about Hispanic immigrants. Their industry, thrift and love of family should remind those who were born here that while we may have been given opportunities to succeed, we must seize them or someone else will.
My uncle had a heart attack on the streets of New York. He was rescued by some Hassidic Jews who got him to the hospital and saved his life. For the rest of his life, they exchanged holiday greetings, and he served on the board of the local Hebrew university.