“The New Colossus” is a sonnet by American poet Emma Lazarus (1849-1887) … [written] in 1883 … as a donation to an auction of art and literary works conducted by the ‘Art Loan Fund Exhibition in Aid of the Bartholdi Pedestal Fund for the Statue of Liberty’ to raise money for the pedestal's construction.
“Lazarus's contribution was solicited by fundraiser William Maxwell Evarts. Initially, she refused but writer Constance Cary Harrison convinced her that the statue would be of great significance to immigrants sailing into the harbor…, and she saw a way to express her empathy for these refugees in terms of the statue.”
“The New Colossus’ was the first entry read at the exhibit’s opening on November 2, 1883. It remained associated with the exhibit through a published catalog until the exhibit closed after the pedestal was fully funded in August 1885, but was forgotten and played no role at the opening of the statue in 1886. It was, however, published in Joseph Pulitzer's New York World as well as The New York Times during this time period. In 1901, Lazarus' friend Georgina Schuyler began an effort to memorialize Lazarus and her poem, which succeeded in 1903 when a plaque bearing the text of the poem was put on the inner wall of the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty.”
— history entry from Wikipedia.
“The New Colossus” reads in its entirety,
“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!’”
The 1944 Jules Styne and Sammy Cahn song “Guess I’ll Hang My Tears Out to Dry” — most associated with Frank Sinatra — references the Statue of Liberty, starting,
“The torch I carry is handsome
It’s worth its heartache in ransom
And when that twilight steals
I know how the lady in the harbor feels”
Astute Americans wonder “how the lady in the harbor feels” now that “… your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free are unwelcome in “the land of the free and the home of the brave.”
What a travesty of that upon which America was built. What a mockery of that which made America great. What hypocrisy in a land of emigrants, excepting indigenes, most of whom became as dispossessed as the stereotypic refugees in Emma Lazarus’ poem after European settlers coopted native land. Even they came from overseas, crossing the Bering Strait, thousands of years ago.
As a child receiving care from African American domestic workers. I appreciated that their backgrounds were unlike my own. I asked questions, curious, wanting to understand, grateful for their presence. I was not insensitive to the fact that they were human, with emotional lives and aspirations for their families.
That empathy has continued in an unbroken line into adulthood. I am not unaware that those who plant and pick the produce that I eat are unprivileged; that someone labors to put the food on my table and provide the quality of life that I enjoy.
What will America be without emigrants engaged in entry level work that others refuse to pursue?
I hardly suggest that limits should not exist, but oversimplification obscuring intelligent discussion is as odious as unsustainably porous borders.
Deportations in America could become as draconian as those in Nazi-dominated Europe. Where, when and how they end is unclear.
Temporary pause should be considered. A law of unintended consequences exists. Americans should consider that something worse than that in place previously could follow if we forge ahead heedlessly.
Jay Wiener is a Northsider
