That was when the bickering between the parties was over whether the children of people fleeing the danger in their homelands to come to the USA to find refuge get to stay, or if they have to go back to places they've never been to.
It seemed like a simple thing for me to resolve. Of course, children are not responsible for the crimes their parents commit, but something else was going on in society. People were actually arguing over whether it was sound immigration policy to let the children stay and become American citizens or to boot them out and not care about them.
It did not seem to matter to many of these people that these innocent children have grown up to be some of America's finest citizens. They didn't even care that if those rules applied when their ancestors were leaving their native homelands that they, too, would be subjects of the discussion.
After a while, I went off and wrote this poem, wishing we could just kick out a racist citizen every time one of the children needs citizenship, and we just have no room here to say, you are my child. Wherever I am, you have shelter and food while your parents build a better life for you.
* * *
on the fruits and vegetables
of their labor
so that they may earn a penny
and live in what to us is squalor,
but to them is palatial
complete with walls and doors
upon which they fear the knock
of authority determined
to send them back
to the hell they escaped so they could
live in purgatory
and earn a penny saving us
a nickel or a dime
on the fruits and vegetables
of their labor.
who have the birthright
to damn them without evidence
of our forefathers' permission
to arrive in the land that welcomes
the hungry and poor masses
for the prospect of a better life
to the chagrin of those
who did not want our forefathers
to come to a land
they claimed as their own,
and steal the way of life
and the land,
so they could build
their palaces
complete with walls and doors
upon which they feared
the knock of retribution
from those who did not
want them here then.
without knowing the fear
of the drug lords
who rule the land from
which their parents fled
without permission
to a land of opportunity,
and whose people now consider
them also to be criminals
for the illegal passage
of their parents
much the same as the
peonic children carried forward
the debts of their parents
into a life of slavery,
so that others could save
a nickel or a dime
on the fruits and vegetables
of their labor
while damning them
for the sin of not having
the birthright to call the only land
they have ever known
their own.
for their service
as political expedience
for the lesson learned
from the sons of the
cotton picking slaves
who had the bad judgment
to be born black,
but who fought
separately and equally
with the heroes
who won the great war.
Despite some forcing the equality
of government paid funerals,
most returned safely
to assume their rightful position
as second-class citizens,
and wait a couple decades
for the right to vote
and a couple more to also claim
the title of hero
so they, too, can damn
the criminals while saving
a nickel or a dime
from the fruits and vegetables
of their labor
from which they earn a penny
to pay for the palace
that has a door
upon which they fear the knock
of authority
determined to send them
back to hell.
that we deny the peonic children,
who bear the burden of the crime
committed by their parents,
an affordable education
and the right to work legally
in the only land they have ever known
and which they love.
For, if such rights were granted
by those of us with birthright,
but not evidence of our
forefathers’ legal passage
to this land against the wishes
of those who once claimed ownership,
then who would save us
our nickels and dimes
on the fruit and vegetables
of their labor
while earning pennies
to pay for the palaces
with walls and doors
upon which they fear
the knock of authority
determined to send them from
purgatory back to hell?
