By Bud Koenemund
I'm an American. Usually, proudly so. Today, not so much. I was born here. My mother and father were born here. Their mothers and fathers were born here. Beyond that, my ancestors came here from other places; mostly from Germany, a bunch from Ireland, some from England and France, and one from Sweden. America is my home. It is my country. But, it is not mine alone! It belongs to all of us -- those who came here in the past, those who seek to come here now, and those who will come in the future! We are a nation built on immigration. That lady in New York harbor says, "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free." I've read that plaque with my own eyes; there is no asterisk denoting "except for Syrians," or any other nationality.