My American dream began in Jinja, Uganda in 1968. I am of Asian Indian descent, and my paternal family ran enterprises across a range of industries from electronics and real estate to insurance and agribusiness. We were expelled by the dictator, Idi Amin in 1972 and lost everything, having to flee to Kenya in 48 hours. We were then taken to refugee camps in Italy. My family had only $50 – £40 now or £200 then – when we arrived in New Jersey, the town of Scotch Plains, just outside New York City. We literally lived on the tracks – one side was African American, the other side Jewish, Italian, Irish. No South Asians – we were the only non-white, non-black family. All my friends growing up were African American, and the joke was that I was the true African because I came from Africa.