Liberty’s Prodigal Children
-By S.D. Westbrook
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 "
“Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,”
This is a line from Emma Lazarus’ “ New Colossus” it is well known and usually associated with the statue of liberty. For all of our flaws as a country and a society The Statue of Liberty represents the goodness at our core; in the country’s soul. The Idea that America is an Oasis of Freedom in the world, welcoming all. The notion that America is the shining light of democracy, rule of law, and liberty that shines through the tempest of oppression in the world. The statue of liberty has long been our silent mother, her sightless but regal gaze emboldening us to stay true to our values; to the principles of liberty. We have strayed outside of liberty’s maternal gaze. We are Liberty's prodigal children. We, Americans, have lost our way.
We have traded compassion for capitalism, consumerism, and corporatism. We've mistaken obedience for bravery. We've replicated the aristocracy our Constitution was crafted to abolish. We have slowly submitted to self subjugation through stoicism. We have come to the precipice of the piteous path we’ve been led down. Will we fall ? Will we