As a proud Marylander, I live in a state with many immigrants. They contribute enormously to our economy and labor force, with the number of those born in foreign lands growing to 1 million last year — higher than the U.S. average.

At a time when Maryland and other U.S. states are worried about maintaining population growth, immigrants have become a reliable source of new labor.

Like many, I watch with enormous sadness as the immigration debate has pulled communities apart across the country, including Maryland, where Senate candidates Prince George’s County Executive Angela Alsobrooks and former Gov. Larry Hogan are in a tight race.

Hogan has made a grave error, in my view, by putting immigration at the center of his campaign. Someone should tell him that we are not a border state, that the American economy relies on immigrants to fill vital jobs, and that nobody is advocating that America just fling open its doors to anyone. It’s disheartening to see him frame pro-immigrant policies as pro-drug dealer and criminal.

For those disillusioned with America — even disgusted by some of the rhetoric and realities of immigration, a growing fear is that both immigrants and citizens will consider leaving the so-called “American Dream” behind. More and more people talk about finding another country. And many are doing something about it, including me.

I do not feel unpatriotic saying that, as an American former diplomat and journalist, I have applied for and received my citizenship to Lithuania. If things go south here after Nov. 5 and we end up with “mass deportation” of immigrants as former President Donald Trump has promised, I will deport myself.

I join a growing number of U.S. citizens looking to belong to another country, according to the American Bar Association, which is tracking numbers and seeing long delays on the path to citizenship in places like Europe.

My grandmother came to this country in 1921 to escape antisemitism and economic dislocation — one of the more than 12 million immigrants who entered the United States through Ellis Island between 1892 and 1954.

Today, the fear that drove my grandmother out of Europe is inside America.

A recent report from the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) found that the United States has seen a “140% increase from 2022 in antisemitic cases.” Per Axios, the report shows that “there were 8,873 antisemitic cases of assault, harassment, and vandalism across the country in 2023, representing the highest level recorded since ADL started tracking this data in 1979.”

The Federal Bureau of Investigation says Jews were targeted more than any other religious group last year, with a steep rise in hate crimes since Oct. 7, 2023.

Particularly painful for Jewish people right now is not just the antisemitism in the country but the rhetoric from American leaders about our faith. Trump has already warned that should he lose the election, the fault will likely lie with Jewish voters.

I don’t want to imagine what that means. Nor do I want to know what “mass deportations” might look like.

My grandmother left Lithuania and fled to America — a democratic country with economic opportunity. Today, Lithuania is a strong, democratic and beckoning nation, providing safe passage for Jews, Russians, Ukrainians and others.

At a time of global antisemitism, the government of Lithuania is working hard to reinvigorate its Jewish population, which is small but growing. By last count, there were around 2,400 Jews in the country.

As a granddaughter of immigrants, I felt proud to grow up in a nation that welcomed outsiders. Immigration was a positive. Today, I no longer understand the immigration debate that is driving this year’s election.

The debate around immigration has become an endless loop of argumentation and conflicting narratives. Bogged down in legal issues like asylum and border control, handcuffed by legislative inaction and paralyzed by politics, America and immigration have become a toxic mix.

My grandmother told me very little about her life as an immigrant from Lithuania. Like so many who fled with memories too painful to recount, she focused on raising good Jewish children.

The one-year anniversary of the Hamas attack on Israel is over, but the violence against our faith continues.

I am glad my grandmother is not here to see what has become of our world. But I am glad I have a passport to her old world and that I am alive to tell her story.

Tara Sonenshine (Tara.Sonenshine@tufts.edu) served as U.S. undersecretary of state for public diplomacy and is a senior nonresident fellow at the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University.