My friend and colleague, Rose Garrity, a determined and heroic woman, ran a shelter for survivors for more than thirty years. Rose understands what oppression and violence can do to a woman. My dear friend, Bob Brannon, introduced us. Yesterday, Rose responded to that newly discovered family photo of myself—and sent me a poem, perfect for our moment in history. Really, the poem is timeless. Read it for yourself and see.

“PITY THE NATION” Lawrence Ferlinghetti (After Khalil Gibran), 2007

Pity the nation whose people are sheep And whose shepherds mislead them

Pity the nation whose leaders are liars Whose sages are silenced And whose bigots haunt the airwaves

Pity the nation that raises not its voice Except to praise conquerors And acclaim the bully as hero And aims to rule the world By force and by torture

Pity the nation that knows No other language but its own And no other culture but its own

Pity the nation whose breath is money And sleeps the sleep of the too well fed

Pity the nation oh pity the people who allow their rights to erode and their freedoms to be washed away

My country, tears of thee Sweet land of liberty!