Marsha J. Perlman
SW Florida Branch
I’ve been to court countless times.
Not because I broke the law.
Not because I was arrested or presented with a warrant.
I, an instructor of English as a Second Language.
They, my classes of Central American female and male students.
Yes, crossed the border illegally at night while entire villages
lived marginally to support one of their own to start a new life.
At first they couldn’t read the rules they were expected to observe.
Acquired English by day, but not fast enough to understand that
in this country one doesn’t offer a bribe to a police officer
when pulled over, hand-cuffed or incarcerated.
Jail cell was home until court date.
Lost wages, hungry families.
Lost English lessons, no jobs.
Lost cars, no transportation.
What _is _our definition of_ JUSTICE?_
Imagine an unbroken world designed for compassion with:
Harmony rather than conflict.
Unity instead of threats.
Defense in place of blame.
Acceptance without prejudice.
Laughter replacing tension.
Let us wage peace and rediscover _JOY._