It’s not a decision we make once and then put on a nice shelf for display. It’s something we revisit every day, every hour as Americans. It’s something many of us discuss in our blogs, our columns, and yes, our cartoons — not because we have some irrational, ingrained hatred for the land of our birth, as some dull-witted types would have it, but rather because we are increasingly troubled by the actions taken ostensibly in our name. And while there seems to be a constant shrill cacophany of voices telling us we are being unnecessarily alarmist, that things are just fine, nothing whatsoever to worry about — well, every day it seems like you read something that would suggest otherwise. (Just go read it. It’s a complicated story and I can’t do it justice with excerpts.)
Do we really tear families apart on the basis of a minor immigration violation, for which the fine was paid? Do we destroy lives so casually and thoughtlessly? Is this who we are?
Apparently so, at least some of the time.