A year ago this week, I became an American. The ceremony took place in Faneuil Hall a couple of days after the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday, where more than 400 of us had assembled to take the oath of citizenship. Looking around, I realized I hadn’t done this properly. Most people had installed family and friends in the balcony with cameras, ready to record the moment and celebrate afterwards. I’d come alone, hoping it would be over in time for me to pick up my son from school.