Pomp and our circumstance . . .

Saturday. Sofa. Coffee.

A friend of mine is in New York City this week-end. She is meeting friends from Italy on their first trip to the United States. They arrived yesterday. This morning, around 8:00 a.m., they will visit Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty.

The image of these travelers standing in line when the gate opens this morning to see the Statue of Liberty evoked unexpected feelings in me.

The words I memorized way, way back at Oneonta Elementary (some said Grammar) School immediately came to mind:

"Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Those are the closing lines of "The New Colossus," the poem by Emma Lazarus originally penned and published to raise money for the construction of the base of the statue, and now immortalized on a plaque inside.

I looked up the rest of the poem.

The New Colossus

By Emma Lazarus, 1883

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

I am certain that my friend's friends from Italy are not huddled masses yearning to be free, certainly not wretched refuse, nor homeless, but having recently flown in they are probably tired. I know nothing about them. Except, one of the first things they will do in USA is visit Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty.

One thing stands out to me this morning in the image of Lady Liberty created by Lazarus.

We were a nation of change. Emphatically and pridefully so. With disdain for the way the world had been run so far.

"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp, she cried with silent lips."

"Pay attention world," it seems like she was saying, "you can keep your old, stale ways, we are going to do things differently here. We'll welcome those that you reject and then show you what you've lost."

That is what made America great . . .

I have heard the phrase a million times and I have said it about that many times, a few times seriously, and many times in jest. But I wonder if as the generations pass we are losing what really made America great. (For those of you rebels out there, yes, I am making the assumption that America is great. I believe it is. Not perfect, but great)

The United States has only been around for two centuries and change.

Change.

That is what made America great. A straining for the future, for something different, something better, even if, especially if, it seemed, it involved some risk. Even if things had never been done this way before.

It is hard to imagine a more radical change in a form of government than from the monarch of Great Britain to the Constitutional Democracy hammered out by those bold representatives of the States that became United as a result of their meeting in Philadelphia.

Freedom of speech, ideas and religion, even speech in opposition to the government. Expansion of the right to vote to all citizens over a long, sometimes difficult path. Exploration of new frontiers, first westward to the Pacific, and ultimately to the moon and beyond. Creation of an economic system that provided the capital for explosive growth and economic opportunity, as well as mind-boggling technological advancement. Education for all. Security for the elderly. Medical insurance for the poor. Protections for the ones who labor. Equality under the law.

And so much more.

All were advancements, meaning that none of the changes came from returning to the way things were in a past time, or even staying the way they were in the present moment. The status quo represented failure. If you stood still you were left behind.

Because it was believed that while things may be better than they were, they were surely not as good as they could be. So things were changed.

Is the United States as good as it can get?

Of course not. But we are acting that way as we look to the past for the security of familiar but failed and outdated solutions to our present day challenges.

But maybe that's what happened to those "ancient lands" Lady Liberty so pointedly addressed. Change became too frightening. The status quo became too comfortable. No new ideas were let in. Opposing ideas were exiled. Along with the people that carried them.

And the USA became stronger at the expense of those "ancient lands" and their "storied pomp."

Perhaps it would be good if the base of the Statue of Liberty were put on a swivel like a wind up music box. Then occasionally she would face not only the rest of the world out across the ocean, but would also turn and face our on soil, and say,

"Keep, ancient men, your storied pomp . . ."

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