Actually, Reality TV About Immigrants Could Be Great
Give Us a Glimpse into What it Takes to Become an American
We threw a party at work the other day. Not for a birthday or a retirement or some corporate milestone with a grocery store cake and a 15-minute huddle of polite clapping and idle chit chat. No, this one was different.
A coworker of mine had just become a U.S. citizen, and the office went all out. Five people spent the entire morning decorating. Red, white, and blue streamers draped from the ceiling. Someone brought in themed cupcakes. The kitchen looked like the Fourth of July exploded. It was the kind of celebration most places reserve for things like promotions or retirement parties; or, if we’re being honest, they don’t really do at all.
Now, for context, this is a mostly older, lean-right office based in Texas. We’ve got maybe 2 or 3 Gen Z team members, but the office is far from a San Francisco startup. If you believe everything the always-online crowd tells you, this is not the place to look for an immigration celebration.
Yet, there it was. And it wasn’t performative. It was proud, almost to a fault. It was an incredible amount of joy and work that went towards rallying around a coworker not just because she hit a milestone, but because she chose this country.
It got me thinking. This would make amazing TV - turns out the feds might think so too.
The Citizenship Show That Almost Happened
You may have seen the recent reports: the Department of Homeland Security was apparently toying with the idea of launching a reality TV show. The concept? Immigrants would compete for American citizenship. Yes, compete. As in, game-show style elimination rounds to see who’s worthy of joining the country.

The reaction was swift and predictable. Critics quickly declared it exploitative, cringeworthy, and dystopian. A citizenship-themed version of The Bachelor, minus the roses and plus some government paperwork. To be fair, DHS rapidly disavowed the idea and claimed that it had never been under consideration in the first place. After a few days, the news cycle naturally moved on to fresher news.
You could be forgiven if you missed the story entirely. It’s the kind of headline that mostly attracts advocates and politics nerds like me - the type of people who voluntarily reads agency press releases and write Substack pieces on public policy. But once I saw it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Because while the format might’ve been, ahem, ill-conceived, the core idea stuck with me: a reality show about people trying to become Americans. Not a competition. A spotlight.
Done right, this could be one of the most compelling shows on television.
The Real Drama Is Already There
Reality TV has a reputation for being trashy, exploitative, and overproduced - and for good reason. But it’s also a medium that has humanized entire groups of people who otherwise might have remained caricatures.

Think of a series that follows real people on their journey through the U.S. immigration system. Not people jumping the line or ignoring the law - but those doing things the right way, often quietly and at great personal cost. Their stories deserve to be seen just as clearly as the protests, fights and court cases that have been spotlighted as a result of our busted immigration system.
You’d see why they left their home country. What they’re working through. Who they’ve left behind. What’s at stake if they don’t make it. We’d see the endless forms. The long waits. The fear of mistakes. The dreams that somehow remain intact through all of it. It wouldn’t need a contrived competition format; the drama is already baked in.
The show could also shine a light on what our system gets right - and what it doesn’t. It could highlight people who are following the rules, contributing to their communities, and going through a process that’s anything but easy. It could give us stories full of grit, heartbreak, humor, and humanity.
You might meet a mother who studied for years while juggling two jobs to pass her naturalization interview. Or a military veteran who’s spent more than a decade in the U.S., finally earning citizenship in the country he’s already served. These stories aren’t about loopholes or shortcuts - they’re about determination, sacrifice, and belief in something bigger. And they don’t need a twist or a hook. They just need to be told.
A Masterclass in the American Dream
A show like this wouldn’t just inform - it could actually teach something. Especially to the next generation.
Right now, our kids are growing up in a world where patriotism often feels either corny or cynical. They see politics as blood sport and the word “citizenship” tossed around like a political football. But what if they saw real experiences instead?
What stands out most about these stories isn’t just the outcome - it’s the people. Their determination, optimism, and hard-won pride in becoming American are reminders that patriotism isn’t about pageantry. It’s about the strength of those who love this country and embrace its values with open eyes and full hearts.
Real people going through real sacrifice, just for the chance to be an American. It would show our kids that love of country isn’t about virtue signaling slogans or owning the libs. It’s about showing up. About wanting something so badly that you’re willing to wait, study, work, and hope for years just to be part of it.
These stories could teach kids something a civics textbook never could. They’d come to understand that America can be messy, but is worth believing in. That persistence matters. That the people who become Americans by choice often appreciate it more deeply than those of us born here. It would also teach why it matters that the rules be respected. Telling these stories should include the reality that illegal entry and inconsistent enforcement not only strain the system - they also cheapen the sacrifices of those who followed the process the hard way.
As a father, I want my son to understand that this country isn’t just a place, it’s an idea. One that people around the world are still fighting to be part of. And that should mean something.
Stars, Stripes, and Streamers
Which brings me back to that party in the office.
It didn’t have a flashy logo, a dramatic host, or a season finale cliffhanger. But if you were paying attention, it had everything a show could need.
It was joyful. Earnest. A little cheesy. And completely sincere.
And in a way, it felt like the kind of reality TV I would want to watch. The kind that reminds us that beneath all the bureaucracy and debate, the American dream is still alive - quietly, awkwardly, wonderfully - in homes, breakrooms, and courtrooms across the country.
Maybe we don’t need a show. Or maybe we do.
As long as it tells the truth.
Such an insightful angle—really appreciate this perspective.