Words as a remedy (Syrian Refugees- Part 2)

I began writing this post November 22, 2015. I did not complete it because the rhetoric coming from right-wing politicians filtered into distasteful dialogue between individuals I routinely encountered. I was surprised by their expression of fear. Rather than think ill of those who were fleeing from terrorism, I wanted to give succor. Yet, I did not know how. The simplest way was to add my voice. I became quite busy and the desire to write the post petered out.  I will finish it off now...


Everyone seems to have a resolute opinion on the political topic of Syrian refugees. Rather than liking as many posts as I am able to on social media in favor of welcoming the refugees, I thought it more prudent to write about it. 

My last blog post was a means to cope with a heavy heart due to the Paris and Beirut tragedies. Less than a week passed before Dumbledore's wisdom proved to reveal a sharp divide in the American public. This six-minute clip from Colbert's The Late Show highlights the absurd fear that has gripped American politicians. Today, NPR wrote, "the emotional debate about whether or not to shut Syrian refugees out altogether gained new traction in presidential politics." I am truly bewildered. Utterly confused. 

Why?

I am confused because historically, America was a refuge for those who fled England. It continued to be a refuge for those fleeing Europe. Inscribed on the Statue of Lady Liberty's pedestal is the poem "The 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-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

How can we, as Americans, be so intolerant? Are we not hypocrites? I am not alone in my confusion or anger. Game of Thrones author, George R.R. Martin referenced the poem in a recent blog post. He will likely be trolled for expressing such views, but I am glad he did because it is currently a minority opinion.