Share

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Dear Fellow Citizens of the United States, Please don't forget where we came from. "Give me your huddled masses..."

Dear Fellow Citizens of the United States,
Please don't forget where we came from. 
That would be....pretty much everywhere. I realize for some it will mean swallowing a gigantic fear of the assumed - that our being a haven for Syrian (and other) refugees will bite us back in the end, BUT, I believe that welcoming them, well, it's the right thing to do.
Yes, possibly there are some people mixed in with the refugees that are out to get Americans, but I have noticed that there seems to be plenty of U.S. on U.S. crime and hate these days. 
I just read that 26 governors have stated that they do not want Syrian refugees and that they will refuse them. I don't know what will end up happening, but I ask you: 
"What if the tide were turned?" "What if it were you?" in the shoes of a refugee, seeking asylum? Putting matters of religion and culture aside for a moment, we are humans on one planet. None of us are better than our neighbor.....and that's exactly what we all are: NEIGHBORS.
I have this crazy idea that the world is better overall if we are accepting of each other, regardless of background and station. I also think that we have forgotten some of our own roots. There doesn't seem to be any perfect solution for finding the right balance of humanitarianism and security, but I wonder if pre-judgement and assumption, heck, even keeping religion out of it - whether or not things will be OK in the end.
                        Statue of Liberty 7.jpg
The New Colossus

~ Emma Lazarus (1883)


Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name 
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand 
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command 
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. 

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she 
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, 
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, 
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. 
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, 
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
Earth from the ISS by Astronaut Andre Kuipers

No comments:

Post a Comment