Travel Ban

I can’t do it today.

There can be no discussion or persuasion. There can be no patient listening. I find myself empty of compassion for the people on the other side of the aisle.

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll have it in me again.

Today, the Supreme Court upheld Trump’s Muslim ban, from the beginning of his term. With some changes, yes. This version is marginally less awful. It doesn’t target green card holders. It doesn’t just apply to Muslims. And it applies to fewer countries.

Only people from Syria, Yemen, Iran, Somalia, and Libya are forbidden from our country.

My father came to the United States from Syria on a student visa. He travelled to San Jose to study electrical engineering. This just became an impossible story. As of today, my father would not be allowed to enter the country.

My father died when I was very young. I don’t have a lot of memories of him, but I treasure the ones I do have. Napping in comforting brown arms wrapped in my blue quilt. Riding on his back, playing bear-and-cub, with my bear-father ambling up the steps to tickle my mother while she washed the dishes.

Praise Kek, this legislation will prevent half-breed degenerate camel-jockey scum like myself taking up space in your glorious land of the fucking free.

I’ve seen the stories my father wrote and I’ve listened to my mother tell his stories for my entire life. My father loved America with the fierce love only an immigrant can feel for a place.

Stories of his love for America are at least part of the reason I enlisted in the Army. Two Afghanistan deployments and five years of my life for a country that banned my father today.

There will be no protests. This is just another nugget in the stream of shit coming from Washington DC lately. The BBC reports that there were more abortion activists than travel ban activists outside the Supreme Court today. In a week, we will forget this.

I will not forget this.

I can’t.


About misanthrophile

A human person, mostly. I have opinions on a lot of stuff
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