I am not a migrant. I am a first-generation love immigrant who followed her heart -and the man who was holding it captive. I came to America from a wealthy West-European country, a land that granted fantastic healthcare to everybody. I didn’t know what co-pay was, could get my teeth fixed, my eyes checked, and had a yearly physical from an early age.
You would think the whole Government is closed during a Government shutdown but sadly, that’s not the case. Of course, politicians still receive their pay, while some of the real public servants go home without a paycheck-at least for the moment. I will never understand the logic behind it, I doubt anybody does.
There should be nothing here I don’t remember . . .
The Gulf Motel with mermaid lampposts
and ship’s wheel in the lobby should still be
rising out of the sand like a cake decoration.
My brother and I should still be pretending
we don’t know our parents, embarrassing us
as they roll the luggage cart past the front desk
loaded with our scruffy suitcases, two-dozen
loaves of Cuban bread, brown bags bulging
with enough mangos to last the entire week,
Last night I sat in the dark; tears were rolling down my cheeks. I don’t cry often. If I do, then it’s because of a book or a movie. When a story touches my heart, that’s when I cry. I can’t help it, it’s a defense mechanism I suppose.
There is not much I could add, other than the wish it will not just be read but heard -and understand- as well. One can dream!
In an editorial, SPIEGEL ONLINE’s Washington correspondent Roland Nelles describes how a European views the United States in the age of Trump. Is there still hope, after all?
The author’s new poem addresses the hatred currently plaguing the United States.
Why do we measure people’s capacity
To love by how well they love their progeny?
That kind of love is easy. Encoded.
Any lion can be devoted
To its cubs. Any insect, be it prey
Or predator, worships its own DNA.
I have seen a lot, I have read a lot. I wished for it a million times. I don’t pray, and if I would, it wouldn’t be for peace, but I would ask for humanity and civility for all. These words have a meaning to me, they are the core of my being.
“It’s hypocrisy to call yourself a Christian and chase away a refugee or someone seeking help, someone who is hungry or thirsty, toss out someone who is in need of my help,” he said. “If I say I am Christian, but do these things, I’m a hypocrite.” Pope Francis, 2016
