“Where, after all, do universal human rights begin? In small places, close to home — so close and so small that they cannot be seen on any maps of the world. […] Unless these rights have meaning there, they have little meaning anywhere. Without concerted citizen action to uphold them close to home, we shall look in vain for progress in the larger world.” — Eleanor Roosevelt
Sunday evening, Berkeley. pic.twitter.com/tF5o9nREsI
— Cheryl Coward (@cherylcoward) December 3, 2018
Postgame: CSUN at Cal.
Happy for the rain and vibrant wet foliage over the past few days! pic.twitter.com/iVu42OKmmS
— Cheryl Coward (@cherylcoward) December 1, 2018
Written in 1883 to help raise money for the construction Statue of Liberty‘s pedestal. The monument was dedicated on October 28, 1886. The poem was added in 1903, 16 years after Lazarus died.
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
MOTHER OF EXILES. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Emma Lazarus (1849–1887)
