Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire of Texas pt 2

So then, after I rant and rave and get all self-righteous about how I’m better than mean people who would stop busloads of scared little kids and shout “Go Home” when they have no home to go to, so after all that, I stop and think “hey, guy, what if someone called you right now and said ‘Can you help? Because you have four bedrooms in your house and you’re only using one of them and occasionally two of them and we need places for several kids to stay and Can You Help?'”

I’ve always wanted kids, and never had them, because I’ve never been in a position to become a full-time stay-at-home dad, and I sort of feel that’s important, not to mention I’ve never been financially stable enough that I feel I could take on the long-term commitment of a child. Much less Several Children. So I probably would not feel comfortable adopting/fostering/sheltering some poor scared kids who don’t speak English. I might be able to volunteer some time to help teach them to read in English or something, but I’m probably not ready to go out of my way to Really Help.

So I’m as bad as they are.

No, I’m not. Because I get the point and I understand that it’s a new and difficult situation, but it’s not that new and it’s not that difficult. My Irish ancestors came over and flooded New York during the Potato Famine, and they were treated exactly as bad as the Texans are currently treating these poor kids. For generations. But my German immigrant ancestors were treated badly too, and so were my Polish immigrant ancestors. We’re a nation of immigrants. We’ve been through this before, and it’s not easy, but that’s why we have Lady Liberty out in the harbor in New York, saying “hey, this won’t be easy, but Welcome”.

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