编者：一个人的失德可以成为对整个社会良知的践踏
我们为什么要读书？读书是为了懂得道理。我们为什么要懂道理？是为了让这个世界更温暖。这个世界如何能变得更加温暖？一个值得奋斗的目标就是每个人都能够有尊严的生活。
全世界很多人向往来到美国，就是美国能够给每一个人提供一个梦想：只要你努力生活，生活就会变得更好。可是，梦想很丰满，现实很骨感。当努力工作的人们，在去工作的路上，在工作场所中，或者在自己的家里，在路人的注视中，在自己孩子惊恐的哭喊中，被当局粗暴的戴上手铐，塞入囚车。他们的尊严呢？然后家业尽失，曾经的努力化为泡影，曾经的积累毁于一旦。这一切只是因为他出生在了错误的地方？每一个人也许可以选择自己最终的栖息之所，但是又有谁能选择自己出生的地方？但是每一个对未来有所期许的人，都会为自己和自己所爱的人，争取更好的生活。这是人的本能。
哈耶克曾经说过，“如果允许人类自由迁徙，那人流的方向， 就是文明的方向”。哈耶克口中的文明，除了能吃一口饱饭，还有很多其它的东西，大概也包括司法，包括尊严，也包括一些包容。难道现在满街的军警，手铐和枪声，就是我们的文明？
如果有其它选择，谁愿意背井离乡？谁愿意寄人篱下？移民之路，哪怕是合法的，也是历尽艰辛，更何况是冒着生命危险的非法之路？一路上有土匪，有野兽，有饥饿，有疾病，更有无数的艰难和跋涉。但是他们还是愿意去冒险，他们的每一步都是通向未来的努力，都是生命的呐喊。
如果他们来这里是为了杀人越货，作奸犯科，那么我们依法惩处，无可厚非。可是绝大多数人，只是想要一个勤劳工作的机会。他们用自己的汗水和辛劳，在田野间，在工地上，在餐厅里，在康复院，给社会带来更多的选择，给自己带来更好的生活，给他们女人的脸上带来更多的笑容，给他们孩子的眼睛里带来更多的光亮。如果我们的确不能给他们提供一个安身立命的机会，至少也可以给他们一个体面离开的选择吧？因为体面，是文明的底线。在这个世界上，任何事情都不会永远。也许有一天，他们会成为我们，而我们也会变成他们。如果彼此之间不能有善意和温暖，至少也该有一些尊重和体面。因为我们都是人。
美国是一个有250年历史的移民国家。不同时期的移民政策，有松有紧。谁走谁留，有相关的司法过程。这个过程并不完美，也随时会根据形势而调整。但是当这个过程因为某些人的表现欲望，而变成一场以践踏人的尊严为噱头的真人秀，那么我们也许该问问自己，我们是谁？哪怕抛开其中的司法程序问题，我们是不是应该提醒自己，“对待弱者的态度，体现的不仅是人的素质、还是一个社会的良心”！
Why do we need education?
Because we need to understand this world. Why do we need to understand this
world? Because we want to make this world better. And how can the world become better?
One goal worth striving for is that everyone can live with dignity.
People around the world regard the United States as the beacon of the world for its value of freedom and democracy, also because the famous American dream, that “dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone…”. Well, it is only a dream, and reality is harsh and cruel. When hard-working people—on their way to work, at their workplaces, or in their own homes—are roughly handcuffed by authorities, thrown into detention vehicles, under the gaze of passersby and amid the terrified cries of their children, where is their dignity? Then their livelihoods are destroyed, years of effort vanish into thin air, and everything they have built collapses overnight. Is all of this simply because they were born in the wrong place?
A person may be able to choose where he is eventually buried, but who can choose where he is born? Yet anyone who has hope for the future will strive for a better life for themselves and for those they love. This is what we do as human.
Friedrich Hayek once said, “If people are allowed to migrate freely, the direction of migration is the direction of civilization.” The “civilization” Hayek referred to meant more than merely having enough to eat. It likely also included justice, dignity, and a measure of tolerance. Are streets filled with armed police, handcuffs, and gunfire truly our idea of civilization?
If there were other choices, who would willingly leave their homeland? Who would choose to live at the mercy of others? The road of migration—even when legal—is filled with hardship, let alone the illegal ways, people literally risk their life for the journey. Along the way there are bandits, corrupted officials, wild animals, accidents, not even mentioning hunger and disease. And yet they are still willing to take the risk. Every step they take is an effort toward a better future, toward a better life itself. If we were they, are we going to make the journey ourselves?
If they come here to rob, to kill, or to commit crimes, then punishing them according to the law is entirely justified. But the most majority of them come here simply for an opportunity to work. With their sweat and labor—in the fields, on construction sites, in restaurants, in nursing homes—they bring lower cost to the society, bring themselves better lives, bring more smiles to the faces of their women, and more light into the eyes of their children. If indeed we cannot offer them a chance to settle and make a living, we should at least offer them a dignified way to leave. Because dignity is the bottom line of civilization.
Nothing in this world lasts forever. Perhaps one day, they will become us, and we will become them. If we cannot show goodwill and warmth to one another, we should at least show respect and dignity—because we are all human.
The United States is a nation of immigrants with a history of 250 years. Immigration policies have tightened and loosened at different times. Who stays and who leaves is decided through legal processes. These processes are imperfect and constantly adjusted according to circumstances. But when the process is turned—out of one person’s whimsical desire to impress his constituents—into a reality show that trumps on human dignity as its spectacle, then perhaps we should ask ourselves: Who are we?
Even setting aside the legal and procedural questions, shouldn’t we remind ourselves that “how we treat the vulnerable reflects not only individual character, but also the conscience of a society”?
