Writings

The Tempest Tossed

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The Statue of Liberty on Ellis Island, one of the world’s most recognizable landmarks. A gift from France to the USA to celebrate the bond between their two nations. The statue has welcomed immigrants arriving to America for over 100 years.

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,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

When I get on social media to write a brief poem or share a recipe, I am slammed in the face with hate and hostility. Hate of any kind will only feed the frenzy that these acts are made of. These people who are hurting us love it when we are divided among ourselves. It pleases them when we write ugly lies. They are happy when we are too afraid to be humane. Fear is heightened and at its very best when people are fighting against themselves. The mission is accomplished as we change our values because of the fear that exists.

It seems that so many in this country have forgotten the sonnet by Emma Lazarus that is stamped on our Lady Liberty. When I think of my great-grand father bringing his family of eight to America, I wonder what it would have been like for them if they were turned away. According to history, there is a possibility my ancestors were seeking a better life and leaving Hungry at a time of unfavorable conditions. The refugees are running for help and some are running with only the clothes on their backs making it impossible to prove who they are.

“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-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

While writing I intentionally left out key words. Take out the words that make this a political problem. We are one world and one people. People need immediate help right now. People should always be worth the risk. The attackers are winning when we give in to hate. When we deny another human being of help due to suspicions, doubt and fear because of their beliefs, religion and color of skin, we are giving up on humanity entirely. I am not ready to give up.


Photo: Statue of Liberty by kconnors

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3 thoughts on “The Tempest Tossed”

  1. Reblogged this on Willowbeithe and commented:

    This is a post written almost one year ago. Not a lot has changed. Today is the election and tomorrow we may be on a new path. That path is up to us, each of us, every day. Even when out votes have been cast and the count is complete, our choices as people toward other people will without doubt be the end result.

    Like

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