I am an American

The question of immigration reform is one that has been brewing for a long time.  Today I heard a story on the radio about a 14-year-old girl who died in the desert trying to enter the U.S.  Yes she was trying to enter illegally, but have we grown so callous to simply say she got what she deserved?  Will no one ask the question, why would she risk so much to come here?  I believe the answer lies in the essence of what makes this nation great.  The words of this poem by Emma Lazarus are engraved at the base of the Statue of Liberty…

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 worldwide 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!”

I am an American, my daughter is an American and one day my wife will take an oath and become an American.  When people mock or make careless comments they not only mock those who are desperately trying to make a better life for themselves but they mock me, and millions of others like me.  When you ponder issues of Immigration do not just think of those who may be here illegally but think of those who have come before them.  They may be your doctor or lawyer or even your pastor not just someone who got caught while reaching for a dream.  A dream that seems to be vanishing in a sea of angry sentiments and ill will.