Give Me Your Huddled Masses Yearning To Breathe Free, Or Shut The Door: a debate between Emma Lazarus and Stephen Miller

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Scene: A quiet room near Ellis Island with large windows overlooking the Statue of Liberty. Emma Lazarus, the 19th-century poet, sits in a high-backed chair, her pen resting beside her notebook. Opposite her sits Stephen Miller, an immigration advisor to a newly-elected U.S. president, his demeanor cold, cocky, and self-assured.

(Stephen Miller)

Emma Lazarus: (gesturing toward the Statue of Liberty) Do you see her, Mr. Miller? She stands tall, welcoming all who arrive, her torch lighting the way for the weary. She embodies the essence of my words: Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. She is America.

Stephen Miller: (glancing at the statue) Ms. Lazarus, while your poem is iconic, it is a romanticized vision. Times have changed. Our country cannot afford to accept everyone who yearns to come here. We must think of the security, the economy, and the cultural fabric of our nation.

Lazarus: Security and economy? These were concerns even when my family arrived, fleeing persecution. The fear of scarcity is nothing new, yet it is a fear unfounded when measured against the contributions of immigrants. Look at the laborers who built our railroads, the scientists who shaped our progress, the artists who enriched our culture. Are these not the very essence of America?

Miller: But not all immigrants contribute positively. Some strain our welfare systems, commit crimes, or fail to assimilate. Shouldn't we prioritize those who bring skills and wealth, ensuring they align with our values?

Lazarus: (shaking her head) Such pragmatism rings hollow, Mr. Miller. You speak as though humanity can be weighed and measured like a commodity. My words were not about utility but dignity. Those fleeing tyranny or seeking a better life are entitled to the same chance that your ancestors and mine were granted. Do you deny that your family, too, sought refuge here?

Miller: (pausing briefly) My family came legally, through the proper channels, at a time when immigration was more selective. Today, we face uncontrolled borders. The chaos undermines our nation's integrity.

Lazarus: Legality? The laws then were different, as they are different now. And who decides what is proper, if not those in power? Often, such laws are shaped by prejudice rather than justice. Let me remind you, Mr. Miller, of your own ancestors—Wolf Lieb Glotzer and his wife Bessie—who fled the Russian Empire’s pogroms in Antopol, in what is now Belarus. They arrived here in 1906, escaping persecution and violence. Your great-grandmother, who spoke only Yiddish, sought the same refuge as so many others. Would you have turned them away?

Miller: (defensive) That was a different time. My family came here to contribute and assimilate, not to undermine the country.

Lazarus: (leaning forward) Different time? The anti-Jewish pogroms that drove your ancestors to flee were no less dire than the conditions many face today. Poverty, war, oppression—these plagues know no era. Do you truly believe your great-grandmother, speaking only Yiddish, would have been welcomed under the policies you advocate?

Miller: (hesitating) My family… adapted. They became Americans.

Lazarus: And so too will those who come now. The Jewish immigrants of your lineage faced suspicion and prejudice, yet they persevered and enriched this nation. Your hypocrisy astounds me, Mr. Miller. To deny others the very sanctuary that saved your family is both cruel and un-American.

Miller: (firmly) It is not hypocrisy to protect the homeland. America must come first. We cannot save everyone, nor should we try. Prioritizing our own citizens isn’t xenophobia; it’s common sense.

Lazarus: (rising from her chair) Common sense? No, Mr. Miller, it is fear masquerading as reason. Your policies betray the very ideals inscribed on the pedestal of Liberty herself. She does not ask, *What can you do for me?* She opens her arms wide and says, *Come.*

Miller: (standing as well) And yet, unchecked immigration undermines the foundation upon which this nation was built. The Founding Fathers envisioned a republic of law and order, not chaos.

Lazarus: The Founding Fathers also envisioned a land of opportunity, a sanctuary from oppression. Benjamin Franklin himself celebrated the diversity immigrants brought to America. It is you, Mr. Miller, who twists their vision to exclude rather than embrace.

Miller: (crossing his arms to show defiance) You speak as if America has infinite capacity. It does not. Resources are finite, and the needs of our citizens must take precedence.

Lazarus: (softly) The needs of our citizens? And who are these citizens, Mr. Miller? Are they not the descendants of those who once stood on the docks of Ellis Island, clutching nothing but hope? When we close our doors, we deny our own history, our own humanity.

Miller: (with a hint of frustration) History is not destiny. We must adapt to present realities. Immigration must serve the national interest, not erode it.

Lazarus: (firmly) The national interest lies not in walls and exclusions but in the vitality of a free and open society. To deny entry to the oppressed is to deny the essence of America. It is not immigration that erodes us, Mr. Miller; it is fear, division, and a failure to uphold our highest ideals.

Miller: Ideals are admirable, but they cannot govern alone. Practicality must prevail.

Lazarus: (with a faint smile) Practicality without humanity is cruelty. And cruelty, Mr. Miller, is profoundly anti-American. If we betray the principles of compassion and refuge, we betray ourselves. The torch of Liberty dims, and with it, the very soul of this nation.

Miller: (hesitating, then lowering his gaze) I… understand your passion, Ms. Lazarus. But I remain unconvinced that your vision is sustainable in today’s world.

Lazarus: (gently) And I remain steadfast in my belief that America’s greatness lies not in its wealth or power, but in its heart. May we never forget that. I earnestly hope that, one day, you and the new President understand and appreciate the essence of America.

The scene fades as both figures sit in contemplative silence, the Statue of Liberty with Lazarus’ poignant words gleaming in the background.

(The author received a B.A. degree in Philosophy from The Johns Hopkins University and a Juris Doctor degree, with Honors, from The George Washington University Law School.)