When we think about immigration, we tend to think in numbers.  We think about how many jobs illegal immigrants “take from” Us citizens every year.    We think in dollars sent to Mexico, South and Central America every fiscal period.  We think about the number of seats filled in public schools by non English speaking students.  We think in boxes checked on the Census.

                What we often fail to think about is stories.  Personal strife endured by individuals.  We think about our own hardship and not the reasons why thousands risk life and limb every year to gain what we take for granted every day. 

                I would urge every person who calls for a fence to be erected on our boarder to imagine what that fence looks like on the other side. 

                Perhaps there is validity to protecting our boarders from free travel.  America is the land of the free and the home of the brave, but not a land of infinite resources.  This is something that Americans have come to keenly understand in recent times.

                But then there is validity to imagining that the economic strain that we have endured as of late does not hold a candle to the economic desperation that the masses in the lands south of our home have lived in for decades. 

                Consider the next time you extol the virtues of tighter border control, that thousands of children cross our border every year in search of nothing more than their own mothers.  These are mothers that have not come to sabotage the land that we love, but have come with the mere hope of effectively feeding their own children.

                If you are a mother, ask yourself what length you would go to if your children were screaming every night from hunger pains?  If you are a sibling, imagine watching your own brother or sister waste away in front of your eyes because there wasn’t enough food to serve you both.

                It is certainly the prerogative of every American to demand respect for what we have worked so hard as a nation to achieve, but it is also our duty to be humane. 

                The question of immigration is certainly one rooted in politics.  But then it is also one rooted in human life.  It should be a question of both mind and morals.

                We have stood up to help defend those in the Middle East in their time of crisis, and it is certainly not the first or last time that the United States will step up for those less fortunate.

                Why is it then, that we have such a difficult time understanding the pains of those who live and struggle every day just south of our boarder?

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