What is their future?
What is their future? It seems most people just don’t care. And why should we? We live in nice houses, drive our own cars, go to the market when we need food and for the most part, just bitch about how bad we have it.
The latest thing we can bitch about is those thousands of kids coming up from Central and South America trying to horn in on our way of life, use up our resources and eventually take our jobs. How dare they! And how about those hard working, good Christian Americans down in Murrieta, organizing rallies to turn back busloads of those awful kids. America is proud of you!
Well maybe some are but I’m not part of that mindset. I know this country can handle them. We can treat them with dignity, understand and empathize with the hardship that drove them here in the first place. Find a place for them to live in safety, thrive and become part of the American way of life. And, we can afford it.
For those that use the currently popular logical fallacy argument that, if we spend any money on those children, then our veterans will suffer or our own schools will have to close or whatever if-then-else scenario you can come up with – well I’m sorry, but our government simply does not work that way. It’s supposed to, but it doesn’t and it never has.
The hypocrisy on immigration is overwhelming. We have people screaming and shaking their fists about illegal immigration but when they are back at work, they take the lowest bid for construction projects, landscaping services and janitorial services. Every day, people eat at restaurants, stay in hotels, have their car washed or repaired, buy clothes, fruits and vegetables all made possible by immigrant labor.
It needs fixing, that’s a fact. But how do we fix the violence in Honduras, the devastating poverty in most of Central and South America? And, how do we look into those children’s faces and say, “I’m sorry, since you are not a member of the U.S. Lucky Sperm Club, you have to go back home now and be abducted, murdered, raped and abused and if you are lucky, you can get a job with your local drug cartel.”.
We don’t. We act like American’s and say . “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!” We are the best and wealthiest country on the planet, let’s start acting like it.