This immigration story has more facets than a gem, and its richness of detail and anecdote entertain even as they bewilder. But I have this idea that keeps floating by, like a movie, of a scene that I shamefully suspect may be playing out in the minds of some folks in the White House and Justice Departments.
Frankly, this fantasy embarrassed me, because I should be a better person. But, I think:
“What if all those folks citing in grave and somber tones the depth of the humanitarian crisis, the plight of the poor children, the obligations we have to those suffering from violence and lawlessness, and the cruelty of deportation — what if they actually go to sleep each night visualizing the looks on the faces of the citizens in small, sleepy, middle-class hamlets when they are suddenly confronted by buses filled with teenage gangsters who speak no English, who have no [legal] skills, who have little or no education, and are now dumped into their communities?”
They must be laughing their asses off. “Nice little town you have here, folks. Meet your new neighbors.”
Naw. That couldn’t be. Could it?