#liamramos #ice #dhs #deportation #immigration #border #texas #liamconejoramos #detention #children #justice #america #usa #law #civilliberties #humanrights
Every government employee that touches Liam Ramos is a monster. I don’t care if they were gentle, if they were kind. I don’t care if they try to look out for Liam Ramos, even now.
If you work for ICE or DHS or the Border Patrol or any other government agency tasked with moving this child from his home to Texas, I would hate for you to think you are a good person.
If this young boy dies, the cause of death will be from exposure to the new, fully unsheathed America: the America of boastful cruelty and pain. The America of drunken greed and control. The America of the new institutional evil.
No wonder Liam can’t survive here. No wonder he is sick and losing the will to live. And just because I bothered to learn this child’s name doesn’t mean I’m unaware of all the other detainees that are sick and in pain. And the plenty of detainees that have died.
They all matter.
But Liam Ramos, I just know, melted one or two ICEy hearts on his way to deportation camp. Liam, with his blue hat. Liam with his classroom and his friends still waiting for him, warm memories in his mind. Liam with light still in his eyes.
That Liam is gone. The body is still, at the moment, here with us now. But you will never get that child back. Our government cannot make whole what it has so thoroughly broken. The decimation of this child is so total, it should be considered America’s national art form:
The brutalization of children. Children of color, in particular. But the abduction and mistreatment of a classmate does not fill his remaining white peers with hope for the future, or confidence in their elders.
Such overt abuse of the innocent — such wanton cruelty and objective evil — cannot be overcome in the moral restructuring that America must reckon with in the dark decades to come.
Each memorial we raise to the children traumatized or outright missing as a result of these mass deportation efforts will always be hollow, and will never suffice in the hearts of those who were there and saw it happen.
America’s past crimes go largely unacknowledged, with no justice or even admission of wrong doing. To willfully add to this litany of misdeeds points to something inherently deranged about our society.
We could turn this all around tomorrow — reverse course on all the damage we have done — and it would still be too late to redeem that part of America’s soul.
America hates its children. And it didn’t always. Because I remember: I did not grow up with the expectation that mass shootings were part of life and that I should not feel special if I encounter one while trying to get an early childhood education. In the last 25 years, we have forced the young to accept the potential for mass-murder.
In that time, we have also abandoned the planet’s future — ensuring that, at the very least, the children’s children will grow up in a chaotic environmental hell, driving mass immigration and conflict that cannot be abided, much less solved.
Our children will inherit a weak, angry America. An America self-scarred. An America notable for its divisions, its violence, and disregard for its own children.
A child’s white skin is no guarantee that he or she will survive in a Christian theocracy, but it will give them their one chance in life to appease the racial tyranny that subjugates them; it will be a launchpad from which they may jettison the notion of right and wrong — or disappoint authority by clinging to morality.
Our government allows its own children to go hungry; to miss out on a truthful education; to wander without hope or purpose in a minefield of corrupt self-interest and humanist martyrdom. There is no good path for the child — not the child who thinks critically, not the child who uses his heart to connect with others.
America is a meat grinder. We harvest youth, and waste its fruit, and resent its bleeding purity. This nation has become a slaughterhouse of innocents. A carnival of adults neglecting, abusing, and deriding the child. And brown children have it worst. They always have.
And soon, it will be worse than ever. America’s death rattle will be a child’s screams.
I don’t know if I believe in god. But I do know that I’m afraid to. Because if there is a god, and if that god is just, the brown children of this world will get their revenge on us all.
May Liam live a long, happy life. And, as utterly undeserving as we are, may he forgive America.
By the way, two more children were just taken from Liam’s school. Maybe we can put them in prison together.
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