Caged

I played golf this weekend.

Had a little pasta.

Watched some movies and a couple of shows.

Cut some weeds.

Hung out with the family.

And thought a lot about men, women and children in cages at the border.

I may not have wasted a lot of time and energy on that, but I couldn’t shake the image of Pence, Graham and a pack of white men who are representing this administration, standing there looking at hundreds of humans in cages.

“The stench was overwhelming.”

“There’s not even enough room to lie down.”

“They keep the lights on all night.”

“Some of the captured haven’t showered in 40 days.”

The vice-president, a guy who thumps his Bible in every conversation...

...was all good with the arrangements.

The video shows Pence standing there with a bored countenance, didn’t say a word to any of those gathered before him, and he turned his back.

His first tweet attacked the media.

By Sunday, the dialogue had shifted because Trump sent a tweet telling the four Democratic, minority congresswomen to “go back to where they came from.”

The racist overtones hammering the entire country over the head on a beautiful summer day.

Camps where people are being held in cages.

“Go back to where you came from.”

On the golf course, the subject came up...

...for a few seconds.

“I can’t even think about it,” one buddy said. “It’s too horrible.”

There’s too much of that going on.

We don’t want to think about it.

But here’s the thing...

...this is what they wanted.

Aid was cut off to the countries that they were forced to flee.

The gates where they could legally enter to request asylum were closed.

These aren’t criminals who are being caged.

They aren’t “illegal.”

They are human.

They want what you want.

To play with their kids, to feel the sun on their face, to work, to live, to breathe free air.

And we are leaving them caged...

...and turning our back on them.

So ashamed.

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