In What Country have I Awakened?

Our asylum laws, similar to those of most civilized nations, were prompted after World War II. The Nazi death camps, our own internment of Japanese Americans, our rejection of boatloads of Jewish people fleeing Nazi Germany and reflecting on the morality of not protecting people persecuted because of their politics, ethnicity, religious beliefs or gender prompted us to do the right thing. We created laws to protect those seeking asylum.

People can seek asylum in two ways. They can apply for entry into the United States from almost any country. The millions that languish in refugee camps can also make application for asylum. This process can easily take a decade before a decision is made. 

Our law also allows people to apply for asylum while on U.S. soil. If they have a reasonable claim to such status, they cannot be deported until their case is adjudicated, which can take decades. Our laws also guarantee that those granted asylum cannot be punished for illegally crossing our border.

There is no requirement that a person must apply for asylum at the first ‘safe’ country they enter.

Maybe a national debate will change those laws. But today, we should obey the letter and the spirit of those laws.

The disgusting and immoral occupant of our White House found a way to reduce the number of asylees. He simply kidnaps their children, holds them in far away detention facilities, holds their parents in detention facilities at our border and offers to free the children if the adults will cancel their asylum request and leave the United States of America. We are taking children away from parents and using them as hostages!

This is all so despicable and immoral that I keep hoping it is all a bad dream. In what country did I awaken?

On this 4^th of July, I will read the poem, “The New Colossus” to myself while sitting at the edge of the Rio Grande and try to understand what happened to my country.

The New Colossus

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!"

Emma Lazarus