"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses . . ."
And, we'll spray them with high-powered hoses and mace?
Apparently, a few months ago, the U.S. Coast Guard in South Florida either forgot about or were unaware of the great words written by Emma Lazarus, displayed at the base of the Statue Of Liberty. No big deal, after all it was over a hundred years ago when Emma used these idealistic words to capture the essence and spirit of the American dream.
Fact is, Emma would roll over in her grave and, if alive, the great statue herself would lower her lamp beside the golden door, hanging her head in embarrassment and shame, especially when incoming Cubans were sprayed with mace and high-powered hoses to prevent their naked feet from making contact with American soil.
Forget about the "Clinton policy" or immigration rules, regulations and procedures and let's talk about plain 'ol human decency. What kind of person "in uniform" could actually carry out such deeds? Did we really train them for such "duty"? If so, maybe revisiting our entire refugee policy is the next logical step. Or maybe Emma was only talking about Europeans, nice all-white folks, ones we might fly in from Kosovo and carefully place in middle-class homes. In fact, it's highly doubtful if one European refugee has ever seen the inside of the Krome Detention Center.
Nevertheless and for whatever it's worth, this seems like a perfect occasion to once again display Emma's words in their entirety, remembering her American dream:
The New Colossus November 2nd 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, you 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-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
Emma Lazarus
Go girl!
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