Do
the words of Emma Lazarus (“Give me your tired, your poor . . .”), inscribed on a plaque within the Statue
of Liberty’s base, still convey the same power today as when they were written in
1883? Like the title of Lazarus’ poem, “The New Colossus,” the United States
has evolved from being a land occupied by Native Americans and scattered
immigrants, eking out a hardscrabble existence, into the most powerful nation
on the globe.
Just
as, in a sense, we are all Africans, having migrated from the original homeland
some 60,000 years ago, we are all migrants the world over, no matter how much
we might identify ourselves as American, Iraqi, Chadian, Chinese, or any other
national or ethnic group, black or white and all shades in between. The end
result is a myriad of cultures, some of which consider themselves superior to
others because of supposed innate, exceptional qualities. These range from
India’s Brahmins, to England’s old aristocracy, and to various other “chosen
people,” among others. The most egregious example is Nazism’s mythical Aryan
race of supermen.
The
tendency of a culture to become exclusionary is exemplified by the anti-immigrant
bias exhibited by some in the United States today. Politicians use the issue of
immigration when catering to a particular segment of the electorate.
Undocumented immigrants are commonly labeled “aliens,” a term that sets them
apart from full-fledged Americans. Others describe them as “invasive” or part
of an “alien invasion,” something akin to kudzu or zebra mussels. They lose
their humanity and become mere objects to be manipulated for political gain.
The
basis of most anti-immigration rhetoric is fear, a common emotion in racial
rhetoric as well: fear that your job will be lost to a migrant, fear that your
home’s value will suffer, or fear that your neighborhood will become
crime-ridden—three of the more common assertions of which there are many. The
problem is that migrants are rarely the direct cause of any of these realized
fears. The direct causes involve a lack of landlord concern, corrupt political
systems, predatory and opportunistic employers, and the failure to support
infrastructure and support systems in poorer communities and in those migrant
enclaves hidden from view.
The
one issue that has gained political leverage is the loss of jobs to
non-Americans of all hues, documented or not, in-country or offshore. Wal-Mart
once emblazoned “Made in America” across its trucks and on its product labels,
until it realized that merchandise could be outsourced at a fraction of the
cost of goods produced domestically. “Made in China” is now the company’s
mantra. The high-achievers in high schools and universities are
disproportionately foreign-born or first-generation Americans. Thus, there is
an undercurrent of resentment toward anyone who exudes “foreignness” in much of
U.S. society, which engenders a “Fortress America” mentality: e.g., build a
higher fence along the Mexican border.
Both
undocumented immigrants and those with work permits do dominate certain sectors
of the workplace: farming, construction, landscape maintenance, and homecare,
among others. But most entry-level American workers shun these jobs because
they are low-paying and, in their eyes, low-status. When I was in high school
in the 1950s, certain of these jobs were gobbled up by me and my classmates—how
else were we to buy gas for that old Ford or Chevy? Few of high-school age
today will cut lawns or chop weeds, not even in their own yards.
The
easy answer, according to some politicos, is to deport the 11 million illegal
immigrants and thus free up jobs for Americans, an answer that only gins up anti-immigrant
sentiment. Others have proposed a “pathway to citizenship” with requirements
like learning basic English and satisfying the conditions spelled out the
Immigration and Nationality Act (INA). Whether trucking illegal immigrants
across our southern border, or creating a pathway to citizenship, funds will
have to be appropriated by Congress, something many members are loath to do.
And so, the endemic inertia that rules Washington will obviate any immediate
solution to a problem that has been called a “crisis,” but one which is of our
own making, politicized—and distorted—by both Republicans and Democrats.
Perhaps the relevant part of Emma Lazarus’ sonnet should be read at the opening
of each session of Congress:
"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!"
