Readify

Kingsley family's move from Jamaica to America

The Sun is Also a Star

The Kingsley family's move from Jamaica to America began as a plan to reunite a family and pursue Samuel Kingsley’s acting ambitions. It gave Natasha Kingsley a childhood home in Brooklyn, but that home remained vulnerable: the family’s undocumented status eventually turned a move made years earlier into a threat of removal. For Natasha, the result was a divide between the place she could legally be sent and the place she understood as home.

The Move and the Family Reunion

Samuel moved to America two years before Patricia Kingsley and Natasha, intending to establish himself as a Broadway actor without the immediate responsibilities of a wife and small child. The separation, originally meant to last a year, stretched to two. Natasha was about six during that period. She remembers the calls to America and hearing her father’s voice change: after initially sounding happy, he acquired a new accent and seemed less happy. The strain in the family surfaced in conversations she overheard, even when she could not hear Samuel’s side.

When Patricia and Natasha finally left Jamaica, Natasha expected the separation from the rest of their family and friends to be temporary. She did not yet understand that, as undocumented immigrants, they might not be able to return. On the flight, she worried about how the plane would pass through the clouds, then wondered whether her father would recognize her and still love her after so long apart. At the airport, Samuel recognized them and held them close. His familiar patois reassured her; although he smelled of American soap, clothes, and food, she was so glad to see him that she felt she could get used to anything.

The reunion required a change in Samuel’s circumstances. While alone in America, he had lived with an old family friend and relied on savings; once his wife and daughter arrived, he took a security job in a building on Wall Street and found the family a one-bedroom apartment in Flatbush, Brooklyn. He chose the graveyard shift so he could audition during the day, keeping his acting ambitions alive while providing for them. The arrangement made their new life possible, though the exhaustion of working nights left him tired during the day.

A Home Built in Brooklyn

Natasha’s later account of the move is shaped by what it meant to grow up in the United States without secure immigration status. She says she had been there since she was eight and does not know Jamaica as a place where she belongs: she lacks an accent, does not know her relatives there in the way she thinks family should be known, and fears losing her friends, senior year, prom, and graduation. Her anxiety is not simply about leaving a familiar address. It is about being sent to a country that is technically part of her history but feels unfamiliar to her.

Her plans for college make the precariousness of that life concrete. Natasha had started an application to Brooklyn College and hoped that financial aid and a scholarship might make SUNY Binghamton or another in-state school affordable. Her mother had saved for two years to travel to Florida and buy a Social Security card bearing stolen numbers, which could be used for financial aid and college applications. Natasha understands the card as part of the effort to make ordinary ambitions possible, but it also records the fear and compromise woven into the family’s life in America.

That life is also rooted in the everyday landscape of the neighborhood. Walking through her Brooklyn area with Daniel Jae Ho Bae, Natasha notices Jamaican restaurants, Chinese restaurants and liquor stores with bulletproofing, discount clothing shops, beauty salons, check-cashing businesses, and crowded deli-grocery stores. The six-block commercial strip looks poorer beside Midtown Manhattan, and Natasha feels ashamed of wishing that the darkness would hide its run-down appearance from Daniel. Her reaction shows how attachment to a neighborhood can coexist with embarrassment at how it may be judged from outside.

Identity, Appearance, and Belonging

The neighborhood’s businesses also bring Natasha’s experience of race and cultural identity into view. At Black Hair Care, she sees sun-faded posters of smiling Black women with the same chemically treated hairstyle. The images imply that only certain hairstyles are acceptable in professional spaces. Natasha recognizes that her own mother has absorbed some of that judgment: Patricia disliked Natasha’s Afro because it seemed unprofessional. Natasha, however, values having the choice. She has liked her hair relaxed and longer as well as natural, and insists on her right to decide how to wear it.

This scene places the family’s migration story within a broader set of pressures. Natasha’s sense of home is shaped not only by immigration status but also by growing up Black in America, negotiating expectations about appearance, and moving through a neighborhood that others may read through racial and economic stereotypes. When she walks there with Daniel, she tries to see the streets through his eyes; he, in turn, tells her that other people’s opinions of their relationship and their families’ cultural differences do not matter to him. His response does not erase Natasha’s unease, but it offers a contrast to the scrutiny she anticipates and a form of acceptance grounded in their relationship.

From Migration to Removal Proceedings

The family’s undocumented status eventually makes the move’s promise of permanence collapse. Natasha says that Samuel’s DUI led to the family being discovered and to her fear of losing the only place she calls home. At the immigration lawyer’s office, she argues that her father’s mistake should not be hers to pay for. Her protest captures the unequal reach of the consequences: the incident was Samuel’s, but the family’s status exposed all of them to removal.

The family’s legal options narrowed through a sequence of hearings. After receiving a Notice to Appear from the Department of Homeland Security, Samuel went to a Master Calendar Hearing, where the family was told that he could accept Voluntary Removal or seek Cancellation of Removal. He initially rejected voluntary departure. Natasha and her mother researched cancellation that night and hoped Peter’s United States citizenship might help. To qualify, Samuel needed at least ten years of residence, good moral character, and proof that his removal would cause extreme hardship to a qualifying United States-citizen spouse, parent, or child. The family hired the cheapest lawyer they could find and pursued that argument at the Merits Hearing, but the judge denied the case. The possibility that returning to Jamaica would psychologically uproot Peter did not meet the standard: his life would not be in danger, and the emotional harm of leaving his home was not treated as sufficient hardship.

The family’s lawyer advised against an appeal, saying they had no case and were out of options. She recommended voluntary departure rather than a deportation on their records, preserving some hope that they could return one day. Natasha nevertheless went to the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services on the day she believed the family would be deported, despite not knowing that the agency lacked jurisdiction over her case. She filled out forms about criminality, terrorism, and her time in the country, then was asked to explain what America meant to her, why she wanted to stay, and how she would contribute. The request to humanize her turns an intimate attachment into evidence to be presented to a system that had already made the family’s future precarious.

The Meaning of the Move

For Natasha, departure would not be a simple return to a known starting point. She had left Jamaica as a child expecting to see family again, but years of undocumented life had made the country of her birth feel foreign. America, meanwhile, was the place of her school, friendships, college plans, and neighborhood. The move therefore reverses the ordinary idea of return: the country she might be sent to is not the home she remembers, while the home she recognizes is the one she may be forced to leave.

The family’s eventual voluntary-removal decision did not end the uncertainty. When Jeremy Fitzgerald told Daniel that Natasha was still to be deported that night and that the judge would not overturn the decision, the legal distinction between voluntary removal and deportation offered little comfort against the practical fact of departure. The move from Jamaica had brought the Kingsleys together and given Natasha a life she claimed as her own; the proceedings that followed made that belonging contingent. Its lasting significance lies in this contradiction: migration created a home, but insecure status denied the family the assurance that they could remain in it.

Related StoryFlow