My ancestors didn’t come here on what most would consider slave ships; they came here in “coffin ships.” That’s what we call them to this day. In the mid-1800′s, during An Gorta Mor (“The Great Famine” in English) my family was starving, poor, and fighting disease. They were on the verge of being thrown off of their own land by a wealthy British “landowner” who had no rights to the property anyway, who merely usurped the authority because his government had more power. They gave up what little they had to get on a boat with hundreds of the same people from Eire to come to America for the better life that had been denied them by British bigots–a life that included being allowed to speak in our own native language, Gaelíge, sing our songs, tell our stories, and believe the way we chose to believe (Catholicism, too, was barred by the British). When they got here, it wasn’t the land of promise they’d dreamed of, but they made the best of it–and they did it LEGALLY. With business owners hanging signs that said “NO IRISH ALLOWED” and refusing to hire them, our people built the first ghettos in America. But eventually, we earned the respect we longed for and we helped build America as it is today. We didn’t sneak in through the back door and it is an insult to the memories of ALL of the immigrants from that time–European, Asian, Mexican, Russian, all of them–to come to this country illegally and then to expect that you’ll be allowed to stay.

In Mexico, you cannot wave a foreign flag or speak a foreign language if you plan to stay; foreigners must speak Spanish, cannot own waterfront property, and unless you can invest with 40,000 times the minimum daily wage you’re not allowed to invest. Foreigners are also not allowed to vote, protest, march, or recieve any form of government handout. If you’re not a highly skilled worker, you can’t be in the country–and if you’re found in the country and you’re not up to snuff, you go straight home (after spending time in a jail that will not feed you, clothe you, or give you electricity or running water and anything you do have is confiscated by crooked cops). So what on Earth makes Mexicans think they have any right to come to the country that my starving great-grandparents helped build and demand that I give them what they want?

I tell you what: when road signs here are printed in Gaelíge and the country apologizes to my family for how we were treated, an apology we have never expected nor have we asked for, then I’ll allow other nationalities to whine and moan about how put-upon they are. LEGAL immigrants built this country. So don’t ballyhoo to me about how unfair things are for you.

Hey, Byron–do we actually agree on something?!?