I can’t help but think about a short story I read back in high school, “Once Upon a Time” by Nadine Gordimer. A family, feeling unsecure, gradually adds level after level of security products to their home. First, it’s a warning sign. (No Tresspassing. Beware of Dog. Never mind the dog, beware of owner.) Then it’s bars on the windows. Eventually, it’s a wall, and then a wall topped with razor wire. The day after the razor wire is installed, finally feeling “safe”, the family lets their child out to play. He, being the climbing, curious thing a child is, gets caught in the wire and dies trying to get out.

Today, I read this article, the latest update on the immigration debate in Congress. Apparently, the wall idea for the US/Mexican border is gaining support.

Some day after the wall is built (It’s just a portion of the border now, but it’s a start. We build a wall and the “vulnerable areas” will move and next thing we know we’ll have a wall that’s along the entire border and extending a mile out to sea.) and topped with razor wire and patrolled by armed guards and punctuated by towers with searchlights and machine guns, we’ll wake up and discover that we live in a concentration camp. We’ll discover that we are not just afraid of the immigrants but of our neighbors as well. We’ll sit in our houses, with our fences and survailance cameras and guard dogs and air filters, watching an endless parade of horrors on the 24 hour news channels. And we’ll die that way.