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Originally Posted by dartay
Have you lived in a low income housing project with predominantly illegal immigrants? I have, Crosby Creek Apts in Farmers Branch,TX I worked and lived there while going to school. Every day vans come around to sell everything from groceries to clothes. None of this is taxed. 20 people living in a 2 bedroom apt. - No taxes from there.
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I haven't, but my great grandparents did. After escaping the czarist persecution in Russia, they settled in a crowded tenement in the lower east side of Manhattan. From what my grandparents told me, there were three entire families living in a tiny two room apartment.
There, my great grandfather labored as a house painter for pennies a day. He scrimped and saved, broke his back and drove himself into an early grave so his children could live a better life and have the opportunity to provide a better life for their children. It is my understanding that my great grandfather never paid income tax, nor did he ever pay sales tax. He did, however, "take advantage of the system" to send his children to public schools. Education was very, very important to him and his his family.
Thanks to his efforts, a few generations later, his descendants are doing some amazing things for this country. One of my cousins has dedicated his life to cancer research. Three of my cousins are currently serving in the military, one in the medical corps, one in the JAG, and one in the infantry. One of my great grandfather's descendants is practicing law in Houston, Texas and trying to provide a better life for his children as well.
Of those immigrants living in the Cosby Creek apartments... I wonder what their children and grandchildren will do. Find the cure for cancer? Cure AIDS? Become president? Interesting to ponder that, don't you think?
The New Colossus
by Emma Lazarus, New York City, 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-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"