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Mother of Exiles (Immigration For Dummies)

So many people seem up in arms over the recent influx of immigrant children from Central America. WTF?

 First off, they're CHILDREN!!!!! Sadly, there are a lot of them. Imagine their lives. To be sent, alone, across the miles, the desert, to a strange land...where certain people don't want them. We, as a society, should be ashamed of ourselves. 

 The US has always welcomed immigrants. Why anyone would want to come to here anymore is beyond me. This country is a mess. I know it and you know it. So, just think how bad these kids' worlds are that this place seems like a better option.

 I come from immigrants. Chances are, you do too. And before you pull that "My great great great grandmother was 1/16 Cherokee!" story, I'm going to call bullshit. You better be able to prove it...otherwise, shut the hell up. If your great great great grandmother was alive, not only would she be really old, she'd probably be disappointed in you. 

 America, for all it's faults, is still a place of great potential. The rest of the world still sees us as a beacon of hope. The reality may be more bleak, but collectively we still show great promise...provided we ALL stop acting like assholes. 

 We spend billions on foreign aid. Well, these kids are coming to us for aid. We should see it as not only our duty but our privilege to help them. They don't want freebies. They want a chance. Let's give them, and anyone else at our door, that chance. 

 Before you complain about illegal immigrants, ask yourself this: "Who hires them?" Rich, often white, American people do. Otherwise, they wouldn't be coming here! We keep hiring them, so they keep on coming. And, they'll work harder for less...which, I think, is what pisses off most Americans. Check yourself.

 The Statue of Liberty has long been a symbol of this country, it's freedoms, and it's potential. Inscribed on a plaque, at the base, is a poem titled The New Colossus. It goes like this:

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-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Before you complain about immigrants, remember....we invited them. 

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