Jack Lessenberry

Years ago, soon after term limits first took effect Michigan, a friend of mine served her three terms, and was forced to retire. To my surprise, her husband ran to succeed her. She came to the legislature with a background in local government; he had none. I thought his running was somehow faintly wrong. In any event, he lost in the primary, possibly because he had a different last name than she did. If anyone had asked me then, I would have said I thought his candidacy was an aberration. In fact, the only aberration was that he happened to lose. These days, politics in Michigan is a sea of elected nepotism. I was vaguely aware of this, but I didn't know the scope of it till the latest issue of columnist Susan Demas' newsletter, Inside Michigan Politics, Demas, who has done her homework, writes "The lineup for House contests looks like a family affair, with at least 13 races involving a spouse, sibling or other relation seeking to keep a seat within the stable." This is in addition, by the way, to another 16 cases of family ties already in the legislature. What's more this has now become multi-generational; she notes that "in some cases, a third wave is ready to move in." The wife serves, her husband follows, and then one of their kids appears to claim the family seat. Now we've always had political families, even dynasties, in America. Whatever your politics, various members of the Bush and Kennedy families were sincerely committed to public service. So were Mitt and George Romney. Closer to home, this is certainly true of the Hertel family, which has had many members serve this state with distinction. But too often, this hasn't been the case. The voters were sold term limits back in 1992 as a way to make sure there was a consistent supply of fresh blood and new ideas in government. That may have been nice in theory. It might be happening if your average voter had the time and desire to carefully research the candidates and issues. But they don't. And as a result, we were treated to the spectacle of former State Senator Virgil Smith Jr. elected because of his father, former State Senator Virgil Smith Sr., who is now a Wayne County circuit court judge. His son, who was first elected at age 22, had a string of brushes with the law, no real qualifications, and is now in jail after assaulting his ex-wife and shooting up her car. Demas's newsletter includes a long list of less egregious but till questionable cases. Now there is no way we could or should prevent family members from running. But what this does show is the utter failure of our system of term limits. We now know that what term limits do is supply us with an endless stream of lawmakers who never stay long enough to really understand the process or build the relationships necessary to govern well. Instead, we've transferred power to the lobbyists and special interests. Meanwhile, the voters, hungry for continuity, vote for familiar names. We could do a lot to fix this by repealing term limits. But so far, nobody has even been willing to try. Jack Lessenberry is Michigan Radio's political analyst. Views expressed in his essays are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of Michigan Radio, its management or the station licensee, The University of Michigan.

This weekend I had a chance to see President Obama's speech to the graduating class at Howard, the nation's best known historic black university. He talked to them about voting and voting rights – but not quite the way you might think. It was a highly impressive speech. (You can watch the speech here.) It seems to me that in recent weeks Obama seems to have gotten his groove back as an orator. He seems looser, much more like the hope-inspiring leader of 2008 than the careworn president. Possibly this is because he knows he will be a private citizen again in less than nine months. He praised a young woman named Ciearra Jefferson, the daughter of a single mom who works in an auto plant. Ciearra, the president said, intends to come back to Detroit to help her community have access to the health care they need. That was a legitimate feel-good story. But I found the president's remarks on voting especially compelling. Suddenly, after talking about the need for change, he changed tone with the new graduates. "Your plan better include voting – not some of the time, but all the time," he said. He admitted there is still discrimination, and said that half a century after the Voting Rights Act, "there are still too many barriers in this country to [voting], and "there are still too many people trying to erect new barriers." Still, he gently reminded them that what they had to face was nothing compared to their ancestors, who risked their lives to vote. He told them when the nation's first black president was running for reelection four years ago, "nearly two in three African-Americans turned out. In 2014, only two in five turned out. You don't think that made a difference in terms of the Congress I've got to deal with?" Finally he said, "you know what? Just vote. If you have more votes than the other guy, you get to do what you want. It's not that complicated." The students laughed, and the President had a point. But maybe it is a little more complicated. The day before he spoke at Howard, I had lunch with a freshman state representative from Detroit named Leslie Love. She's a woman in her mid-forties, with a background in both theater and human resources. She told me she had turned to politics because she wanted to make a difference for her community. At one point we started talking about voting, and why so many African-Americans don't. Representative Love is perhaps a bit closer to the street than the president. She told me that for people with limited education, the ballot can be terrifying. "For example, it might say, "vote for not more than two," candidates and they won't be sure exactly what that means. Does it mean you have to vote for two? She told me many black folks are too proud to ask for help, and so they don't vote at all. Add the fact that there's no early voting in Michigan, too few polling places in inner city areas, false rumors about the police waiting at the polls to serve warrants, and poor turnout becomes much easier to understand. The President was right: Everyone needs to vote, and it is easier for some than it once was. But for too many, not easy enough. Jack Lessenberry is Michigan Radio's political analyst. Views expressed in his essays are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of Michigan Radio, its management or the station licensee, The University of Michigan.

If you've been paying attention to Lansing over the past several years, you know that the Michigan legislature seldom ever misses an opportunity to do the wrong thing. This is due in large part to ideological fanaticism, strengthened by gerrymandering and term limits, which has given massive powers to lobbyists and special interests. In recent years, the House has been considerably worse than the Senate. This is why, for example, the roads haven't really been fixed. There are many other such examples, and here's the newest: The Detroit public schools are about to run out of money. Michigan has a constitutional obligation to provide an education for all its children. The state house of representatives, under pressure from the so-called "school choice lobby," passed a plan that A) doesn't provide enough money to fix the problem, B) rejects the governor's plea to provide some oversight over the proliferation of out-of-control charter schools, and C) is more interested in punishing teachers and especially their unions than in helping children, most of whom are poor, black, and in districts that never vote Republican. That is the cold, hard truth. There's plenty of blame to go around for the Detroit schools, which were once among the finest in the nation. Detroiters did much of it to themselves, by electing a series of incompetent and politicized school boards, who wasted vast amounts on huge contracts for failed superintendents. The state then appointed a series of emergency managers who got lots of favorable press, but failed to fix the finances. What also baffles me is the recent story of the thirteen Detroit school principals charged with taking bribes and kickbacks on school supplies, black people stealing from the poor black children it is their supposed mission to help. Probably the worst plague of all has been the charters, which I see as essentially private schools running on government money siphoned off from the public schools. Some of these do provide a good education. Many are substandard, as a massive Detroit newspaper study has shown, and some run out of money and close down mid-year. Under my government, I'd eliminate state funding to every charter in the state, and return that money to public education. Charters would be welcome to try and survive as private schools. That may never happen, but Governor Snyder did propose as part of his Detroit school bailout plan a Detroit Education Commission that would have a role in determining where any new school would be allowed to open. This makes a great deal of sense, largely for the same reason McDonald's doesn't allow two of its franchises on the same block. But the charters don't want any oversight, and they got their puppets in the House to pass a bill without any Democratic support. This stands in stark contrast to the Senate, where both parties worked hard on a reasonable, bipartisan proposal. The Senate plan would cost a little more, but actually might save the schools. Anyone who knows anything about this will tell you the House bill would be a disaster. Now, we have to see if reason prevails. What happens won't be important just for Detroit's kids, but for the economic future of our state. I'm hoping for the best. But I wouldn't say I'm optimistic. Jack Lessenberry is Michigan Radio's political analyst. Views expressed in his essays are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of Michigan Radio, its management or the station licensee, The University of Michigan.

Falling In Line More than half a century ago, Michigan had a Republican governor who faced a difficult choice. His party was going to nominate a candidate for president whose views on civil rights were totally opposed to his. George Romney was, make no mistake about it, a politician. He wasn't above pandering to the voters. But I knew him well enough in his old age to know he was genuinely offended by Barry Goldwater's stand on civil rights. The senator from Arizona opposes the landmark Civil Rights Bill of 1964. After Goldwater won the Republican nomination, Romney wrote him a now-famous letter indicating he was upset that the candidate's strategists "proposed to make an all-out push for the Southern white segregationist vote," and "exploit the so-called white backlash in the North." That was exactly what Goldwater's strategists did. George Romney was a man of principle on civil rights. He had marched in civil rights demonstrations, including one in Grosse Pointe, even when it was politically risky. When he didn't get a satisfactory answer from Goldwater, he refused to endorse him, which provoked deep-seated anger on the part of conservatives, some of whom never forgave him. Many felt there was an element of political calculation at work here. Romney had to run for reelection that fall. It was clear from the start that Goldwater's candidacy was going to be a disaster in Michigan. Goldwater became the only Republican presidential candidate in history to lose this state by more than two to one. Republicans went down to defeat in droves all across the state. The party lost five seats in Congress. But Romney won reelection by a landslide. Three-quarters of a million voters split their tickets to vote for Democrat Lyndon Johnson for President, and for Romney. Yesterday, it became certain that Donald Trump would become the Republican nominee, something that has really been in the cards since March. Not many Michigan Republicans wanted Trump, including state Attorney General Bill Schuette. But yesterday, as was also entirely predictable, state Republican leaders began falling in line. What Schuette said was, I thought, especially bizarre. "I've been one of the first to say the disparaging comments about Hispanics and Mexicans are deplorable to me. His comments about women and the disabled, that's not Bill Schuette," he told a Detroit newspaper. Yet despite all that, despite "blood coming out of her whatever," Michigan's attorney general is going to support Trump because, as Schuette said: "I'm a Republican. I ride for the brand." What I would have asked Schuette at that point was whether there was anything a Republican nominee could possibly do to lose his support. Commit murder? Support transgender rights? It seems to me that politicians, who say they will support their party's nominees even when they despise what they stand for, are a big part of the reason people are so cynical about politics. That's not to say everyone endorsing Trump is a cynical hack. Congresswoman Candice Miller did so, citing his views on trade policies that have clearly hurt the Midwest. That may be the most legitimate issue Donald Trump has raised. But there are a lot of Republicans doing some very deep soul-searching right now. It will be interesting to see what the voters think of their souls, once they reveal them. Jack Lessenberry is Michigan Radio's political analyst. Views expressed in his essays are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of Michigan Radio, its management or the station licensee, The University of Michigan.

Six days ago, when it was first announced that President Obama was finally coming to Flint, Governor Snyder sent word from Europe that he was busy and didn't plan to be in town that day. It was instantly clear that this was a huge political mistake. Politically and socially, it is bad manners to snub the President when he comes to your state, especially when it is in response to a major humanitarian crisis. In this case, a crisis caused by Rick Snyder's own appointees. If you have a background in politics, you just knew that Snyder was going to have to find a way to change course and avoid further embarrassing himself. Eventually, he did so, offering the rather lame excuse that he didn't want to confirm the president's visit before the White House did, and was soon asking both for a meeting and to be part of today's events, including greeting the president as his plane arrives. What is happening today, especially between the two men, will be about as spontaneous as Kabuki theatre. There will be, I expect, some kind of private or semi-private meeting. Both men will express their heartfelt desire to work together for the good of Flint. The President may well announce some new benefit for the city, and vow to work to get more from Congress. All of which is likely to be overshadowed by coverage of his meeting with the enchanting eight-year-old who calls herself Little Miss Flint. The President should be back in Washington in time for dinner, and the newscasts will have their lead story for tonight. Someone asked me if I would like to be a fly on the wall during the president and governor's meeting, and I said, "not especially." I think it is likely to be boring. But I would like to be inside their heads. Especially, the governor's. Think about this. One year ago, it looked quite likely that a Republican, most likely Jeb Bush, might be the next President. The American voters tend to switch White House control every eight years. Had that happened, it would have been quite likely that Snyder would have been strongly considered for a cabinet post – possibly the Office of Management and Budget. Last night it became clear the Republicans will nominate Donald Trump instead. Snyder and Trump may not have much in common, but that doesn't matter. Nobody would or will ever again elect or appoint Rick Snyder to anything. Sixty-nine percent of Michigan voters give him a negative job performance rating, according to an EPIC-MRA poll. Snyder will be remembered, fairly or unfairly, as the man who poisoned Flint. Meanwhile, President Obama is enjoying a modest resurgence. There may be some Obama fatigue, but polls now show him with a net favorable rating. Less than nine months from now, Obama will be, he has said, "on a beach drinking something out of a coconut." He will be remembered as the President who saved the auto industry, had Osama Bin Laden killed, and established national health care. Meanwhile, Mr. Snyder will still have almost two years to twist slowly in the wind in Lansing. I don't know if any of that is occurring to him today. But I do know that if hasn't, it will. Jack Lessenberry is Michigan Radio's political analyst. Views expressed in his essays are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of Michigan Radio, its management or the station licensee, The University of Michigan.

I had dinner last night with John Hertel, who runs SMART, the efficient and cost-effective bus system for suburban Detroit. This hasn't been an easy spring for John; his younger brother Curtis Hertel Sr., a revered former speaker of the Michigan house, died unexpectedly five weeks ago. The Hertels were members of a species now rare in politics. They were a political family. John himself was elected to three terms in the state senate; he has two other brothers who served in the legislature, one of whom also spent six terms in Congress. They are proud Democrats. But they were people before politicians. They've always been dedicated first to getting the job done and making things work, and they had lives outside of politics. John Hertel is a creature these days almost as rare as passenger pigeons, a Democrat who has been repeatedly appointed by governors of both parties to important posts. John Engler appointed him manager of the Michigan State Fair, which he did for thirteen years, making it more modern and cost-effective until Governor Granholm inexplicably killed the fair. Three different governors have appointed him to the Huron-Clinton Metroparks Authority, which he chairs, and he is also chair of the Detroit Metropolitan Convention and Visitors Bureau. He's also the only man in Michigan history ever to be chairman of the board of commissioners in two separate counties – Wayne and Macomb. But when you talk to him, he doesn't start spouting statistics from some tracking poll. He's more likely to talk about his kids or the light of his life, his prize giant Percheron horses, one of which became the first American horse ever selected to go back to France and enrich European bloodlines. Hertel, an early baby boomer who will turn 70 this year, has seen a lot of strange stuff, inside politics and out. But for the first time, he is deeply worried about this country. Like many of us, he can scarcely believe that a major political party is going to nominate a presidential candidate who has essentially incited his supporters to violence, called for the registration of members of a minority group, and who seems cheerfully and arrogantly ignorant of how government or democracy work. But that's not all that's bothering him. Hertel grew up in Detroit, in an era when its public schools were excellent, and when both Republican and Democratic parents automatically agreed that every child deserves a good public education. Now, he is baffled that the legislature seems far more reluctant to save the schools than they were to save the Detroit Institute of Arts during the Detroit bankruptcy crisis two years ago. And he says that as one of the art museum's biggest fans. The Hertels came from a working class family to build meaningful and successful lives. But I left thinking about the 40-something mother I know who is trying to figure out how she and her husband can afford college for their two kids, and wondering what kind of jobs or state will be there for them. Hertel's generation saw the task of politics and government as one of making things work better for all of us, even if they disagreed on how to get there. Somehow, a big piece of that seems to be missing today. Jack Lessenberry is Michigan Radio's political analyst. Views expressed in his essays are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of Michigan Radio, its management or the station licensee, The University of Michigan.

Last Thursday, there were huge headlines that Dan Gilbert, the billionaire who has bought much of Detroit, wants to invest a billion dollars to build a major league soccer stadium and complex in the city's downtown. This was largely greeted with sort of the breathless excitement you'd expect when your team finally wins the World Series. There was a little mention of the fact that the land on which Gilbert wants to build his 25,000 seat stadium not only doesn't belong to him, but in fact is part of Wayne County's criminal justice complex. What's there now is the county courthouse, the Frank Murphy Hall of Justice, a modern juvenile detention facility, and the famous unfinished jail, which sits open to the elements. Construction was halted three years ago because of cost overruns during the famously incompetent Ficano regime. Wayne County Executive Warren Evans, who beat Bob Ficano and others in a landslide less than two years ago, has determined that the most sensible, economical and practical solution was to just finish the jail, and the county intends to seek bids this fall. However, now the Quicken Loans and Rock Financial czar wants the land. There's a sort of assumption in Detroit these days that, as one woman I know put it, "whatever Dan Gilbert wants, Dan Gilbert gets." That seemed to color much of the media coverage. But Evans doesn't feel that way – and after talking with him for an hour, I came to see why. Evans has earned credibility. When he took office in January 2015, the county had huge budget deficits and health care liabilities. There was talk of bankruptcy and emergency management. But Evans, a savvy lawyer in his own right, instead worked out a consent agreement with the state, and went to work on the financials. Evans learned his way around budgets as both Detroit police chief and Wayne County sheriff, and he knew the experts he should be consulting. Today, the deficits are entirely gone, and health care is on a better footing. But criminal justice and finances are still important. When it comes to where to put the stadium and the jail, Warren Evans says, "I don't have a dog in this fight" as far as location is concerned. But he notes that the area has been a criminal justice site for a century, and that it makes sense to have criminal justice facilities centrally located and easily accessible. And he does have one bias. He told me "(Gilbert's) project can't cost Wayne County taxpayers any more than continuing," as they are now, and there can be no further delays. Indications are that the county commissioners are with Evans on this. The only way he said he'd consider selling to Gilbert is if somehow the mortgage tycoon could pay for them to build a new jail, courthouse and state of the art juvenile facility elsewhere, and have it ready first. "Clearly that has got to cost more than us finishing this project. So whatever the difference is, that's what they have to guarantee." You never know how negotiations may go. But Detroit is a city with vast vacant spaces, and destroying a criminal justice complex that works where it is may not make a lot of sense. Jack Lessenberry is Michigan Radio's political analyst. Views expressed in his essays are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of Michigan Radio, its management or the station licensee, The University of Michigan.

I'm well aware that the Flint crisis is still going on, that the roads aren't fixed and that while things are better in Detroit, the city still has too few jobs and too much blight. And I'm sure I will talk about some or all of those problems next week. However, it's the start of a weekend in Michigan, and it might just be warm enough to sit on the porch and read something that isn't about failure, incompetence or corruption. So I've got a marvelous little book to recommend. It is called Ink Trails II, by the brothers Dempsey, Dave and Jack. Dave is a full-time professional writer; he has written eight books, including an excellent biography of Governor Milliken. Jack is a lawyer who passionately cares about history, and who has written several fine books himself, including one on Michigan during the Civil War. Four years ago they teamed up to write Ink Trails, which was a collection of short and entertaining biographies of what they called "Michigan's Famous and Forgotten Authors." I picked it up skeptically back then – and was soon captivated. The world doesn't often think of Michigan as a literary place, but we've in fact produced more than our share of authors, some who were born here; others who did their best work in the state. Volume One included Carl Sandburg, the poet and Lincoln biographer; Ring Lardner, the prose poet laureate of early baseball, Gwen Frostic, the one-woman publishing industry; Bruce Catton, the famous popular Civil War historian, and John Voelker, the state supreme court justice who wrote the best-selling novel turned movie, Anatomy of a Murder, plus a dozen more who are less well known, but ARE as or more fascinating. I loved the book, but when I heard they were doing a second Ink Trails, I wondered whether it could possibly be as good as the first. Well, in some ways Ink Trails II may be better. It includes the best eight-page vignette I've ever read of the early life and summers a boy and a teenager spent a century ago on Walloon Lake and Horton's Bay, a kid named Ernest Hemingway. There's an enormous new 600 page biography out now about Russell Kirk, the brilliant intellectual who helped spark the present conservative movement from his home in Mecosta. If you've always wanted to know more about him, you could spend a month reading it – or get an overview of his importance and his Michigan toots from the eleven pages here. The brothers Dempsey also devote part of a chapter to Julia A. Moore, a woman who in her time was known as the "sweet singer of Michigan," and who my friend, the Dearborn literary critic Dave Good, has long believed – correctly — to be among the worst poets in history. There's also a powerful chapter on Donald Goings, a pimp, heroin addict, and absolutely brilliant novelist of ghetto street life in Detroit until he was blown away at age 35. In other words, this is an equally fascinating book. I haven't read all the chapters yet; I plan on saving them for when I need a little diversion this summer. Jack Dempsey told me this winter he has material enough for several more Ink Trails books. Eat your heart out, Manhattan Literary Scene. Jack Lessenberry is Michigan Radio's political analyst. Views expressed in his essays are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of Michigan Radio, its management or the station licensee, The University of Michigan.

The nation was enchanted by little Amariyanna Copeny, Mari for short, who calls herself "Little Miss Flint." Mari, an absolutely adorable eight-year-old, had written President Obama and asked to meet with him when she came to Washington. That didn't happen, but clearly some savvy staffer saw her letter and realized this might be a perfect backdrop for a presidential visit to Flint. A number of people, including me, have been surprised that the President did not visit the afflicted city before. This week, Mari got a letter from the President himself, telling her that he was proud of her for "using your voice to speak out on behalf of the children of Flint," and saying that he wanted her to be the first to know he is coming to visit next week and hopes to meet her. Well, after seeing a video of this little girl, all I can say is that I'm sure the various candidates for office are very happy she isn't old enough to run. You know that the photo opportunity highlight of the President's visit is certain to be his meeting with Little Miss Flint. But if Mari is eager to meet with the President, Governor Snyder seemingly is not. Yesterday, Snyder, who is on a trade mission in Europe, sent word that his dance card is full and that he's not scheduled to be in Flint that day. Politically, that seems like a huge mistake. Right now Snyder has pretty much zero credibility when it comes to Flint. You would think it would make sense for him to rush to appear with the President, and make it look like they are working together to solve this crisis. But he evidently doesn't see it that way. Twenty-some years ago, then-New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani was in Brooklyn the same day as President Clinton, and the Republican mayor was going to ostentatiously snub the Democratic president. The New York Daily News had a headline ready to go –"Brooklyn Dodgers." But at the last minute, Giuliani realized the error of his ways, and met with the President Snubbing the nation's leader when he comes to visit your town is not good manners or politics. In a similar vein, the late Gerald Ford, Michigan's only president, could have told Ted Cruz something about Hail Mary passes. Cruz, of course, tapped Carly Fiorina as his running mate yesterday, in the increasingly unlikely event he gets the nomination for President. Exactly forty years ago, Ronald Reagan tried the same thing. That year, Reagan and President Ford were in an extremely close battle for the Republican presidential nomination, and neither arrived at the convention with enough delegates. Reagan then stunned the world by announcing that Richard Schweiker, a liberal senator from Pennsylvania, would be his running mate. This was designed to pry loose a few Ford votes. Instead, it backfired. Conservatives were outraged, and liberals felt Schweiker had sold them out. Ford won the nomination, and Schweiker never ran for office again. Similarly, it's hard to see how Fiorina helps Cruz, since almost nobody voted for her when she was running. Those who don't know the past aren't necessarily condemned to repeat it. But they do tend to screw up a lot. Jack Lessenberry is Michigan Radio's political analyst. Views expressed in his essays are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of Michigan Radio, its management or the station licensee, The Universit

It now seems nearly certain that one of our major political parties is going to nominate a presidential candidate who has pledged to deport every undocumented person in this nation. Experts say that's about 11 million people. This has struck terror into the heart of one woman I know, who is not from Mexico, but Eastern Europe, who cleans houses and takes care of her husband and little daughter She's been living in fear for years anyway. Whenever she goes to work, she knows she is just one traffic stop from potential deportation. I knew her for years before she confided he truth about her status. When I suggested she see an immigration attorney at a legal aid clinic, she even seemed paranoid about that. When I assured her they wouldn't turn her in, she asked how a free attorney could possibly be any good Her life is bad enough. But now think how bad it is for undocumented immigrants in Flint. Flint wasn't a hotbed of illegal immigration even before the water was poisoned. There haven't been many jobs there for a long time. But there are some people without papers virtually everywhere, and I would guess there are a few hundred in Flint. From accounts I've seen, most are Hispanic, and many are having a harder time than their neighbors, for whom life has been no picnic. Last night, Rana Elmir, the deputy director of the American Civil Liberties Union of Michigan, talked to me about them. She showed me press accounts, notably in the new media outlet Fusion, about undocumented people who went to fire stations to get bottles of water, were asked for identification, and fled. Some may be still drinking the tap water. Some were drinking it long after it was safe, because they don't speak English – and no one was printing any information in any other language. Some won't answer the door when well-meaning people knock to see if they need water, because they fear it may be immigration authorities. Back in February, the Department of Homeland Security did announce that they and Customs and Border Protection "do not and will not pose as individuals providing ... water," or conduct enforcement operations near water distribution locations. That's good, but not good enough for a coalition of sixty civil rights organizations who have written to the U.S. Departments of Homeland Security and Health and Human Services, asking that Washington publicly suspend any immigration enforcement activity in Flint. They argue it would be inhumane to deport someone poisoned by lead to a country where they couldn't get proper medical assistance. Naturally, the idea of mass deportations of any kind is ridiculous and barbaric. That would severely cripple our economy and put this nation on a moral plain with Stalin's Soviet Union. Besides, the entire concept reeks with hypocrisy. I once saw a marvelous poster of a sour-looking Geronimo holding a rifle. The caption said, "unsuccessfully fighting illegal immigration since 1492." No, America can't take in everybody on the planet. But we pretty much all come from ancestors who were once unwanted strangers. Those who have been here for years are now part of the fabric of this nation. We need at the very least, to treat them with the humanity we deserve.