Amy Barlow Liberatore… stories of lost years, wild times, mental variety, faith, and lots of jazz

Tag Archives: ICE

On February 19, 1942, Franklin Delano Roosevelt signed the order
The USA opened the first resort dedicated to recreation for Japanese Americans
That is, the first Japanese internment camp, during WWII
That is, the first concentration camp on American soil

We first learned of the term concentration camp after Nazi Germany was defeated
The waves of emaciated, tortured Jews and trans people and Roma and more
We said Never Again

But we didn’t mean it, because we already did it ourselves in California, all over the West Coast
The rancid lie creeps up on people, like this: The Powers That Be call them Bad, Wrong, Unacceptable, not good for our country
THEY must be set apart so that “the rest of us” can be safe, out of danger
And the lie, when repeated often enough, seems true to an awful lot of people
Hitler had one state-run newspaper and one radio station for propaganda. (Which is why we donate to NPR)

So this is how history rhymes: This time around, it’s immigrants who are Bad, Wrong, Unacceptable
Rounded up like animals, stuffed into vehicles by state-sponsored goons
Shipped off to “Immigrant Detention Centers”
Warehouses for the latest round of undesirable adults and children
Their crime is being brown, speaking another language
Their punishment is banishment
No warrants, no hearings, no trials
And our voices, when we ask questions, demand change, are ignored

Habeus corpus is a corpse
And the American Dream is white. Speaks English. And doesn’t need papers.
Germany had Klaus Barbie. We have ICE Barbie. Either way, it’s just another sadass game of Concentration.

© 2025 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

Please don’t just comment with kind words. Let me know you are going to make a call, write emails, anything to help. The number for the White House is 202-456-1111. Google your senators and kick up a fuss. Don’t skip anyone just because you know they are kissing the (—-) of the president! Call them. Kick up a fuss!!! Like I always say, “Never run out of words.” Amy