Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Mother of Exiles

People forget that the other name for the Statue of Liberty is Mother of Exiles.   While I was preparing signage for the June 30th march (yes, it's still on, more about that after the video) I found this video, and wanted to share.



I love the music, but I also love the stories told throughout the video, meeting the immigrants, finding out where they came from, then seeing their place in the nation.

and immigrants DO have a place in this nation.

Now, about the march on June 30...

A lot of people are sitting back with a sigh of relief that Trump has signed an order which supposedly keeps families together.  It doesn't exactly do that.  It states that kids can only be taken if their welfare is at stake, which is pretty much the excuse used to separate them in the first place.  The Flores Act allowed for the immediate removal of unaccompanied minors from detention centers into "least restrictive environments".  It was not designed to be used to tear children from their mothers and send them across country other detention centers.  In 2015, a federal judge was quite specific about refugee detention:
"Judge Gee ordered that the families that did not pose the risk of evading law enforcement officials be released." [Time]
Now, however, the president has ordered those crossing the border seeking asylum turned over to the Department of Defense rather than ICE (part of Homeland Security).

We are treating immigrants and refugees as political prisoners.  I'd hate to think that this is what they have planned for Guantanamo Bay, our most infamous DoD detention center.

The Mother of Exiles would weep, could tears fall from her copper clad eyes...



The New Colossus
BY EMMA LAZARUS




   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,
T
he wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”



1 comment:

Barb R said...

Your country has lost its way. The world hopes it will find it again, soon.

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