My daughter is intensely proud of her baby brother. He, in turn, lights up when he sees her.
In one heart melting moment a few days ago, she piped up with “Mommy, he’s my best friend.”
To that end, she loves to be around him. Unfortunately for baby brother, big sister doesn’t quite understand the mechanics of interacting with a baby—which generally ends in baby brother crying because big sister inadvertently hugged him too hard and he toppled over.
And, every time this happens and I involuntarily gasp, my daughter immediately melts into a pile on the floor in sheer embarrassment.
So, how can I keep baby brother safe without making a loving big sister feel awful?
“Show her what she CAN do,” my own mother—who happens to be a veteran parent of four and an early childhood expert—advised me to do.
<<Light bulb moment.>>
So, that’s exactly what we’ve been doing.
This idea of showing someone what they can do; well, It’s not unlike how our Founding Fathers enshrined our freedoms in the Constitution. After setting up how government is to operate, the rest of document is all about what government can’t do to us—and by default we’re all given a list of things we can do; a list of freedoms we have.
It made the people the central focus; bucking millennia of societal tradition. And yet liberals in this country have spent the better part of this last century berating, besmirching, ignoring and trampling on the very document that made us great.
It’s a “living document,” they’ll say, in order to justify any action outside of its legal bounds.
So I’ve got a million-dollar question.
As the media and the collective American Left clutch their constitutional pearls over President Trump’s comment on so-called “birthright citizenship,” it begs the following:
Why would you care?
Why would you on the Left care at all about whether or not something is “enshrined” in the Constitution at all, if you’ve spent years trying to prove that the document is living, breathing—and changeable not by the process of amendments so as to protect it from whims, but indeed on a whim?
Why would you care, when heroes of the Left like Ruth Bader Ginsburg (whose job description, ironically, entails protecting the Constitution above all else) tells other countries not to “look to the US Constitution” for inspiration in drafting their own?
Why would you care, when you believe the Constitution was written by racist old white men?
Why would you care, when you hold that the Constitution itself is racist?
Why would you care, when you believe the Constitution was and continues to be flawed?
Why would you care, when left-wing law professors compare the Constitution to “Windows 3.1”—an archaic operating system anyone would be crazy to want?
Seriously, I don’t get it. You routinely trash the Constitution. You’ve made no bones about your general disdain for it. But suddenly, when backing the Constitution fits a politically-charged narrative that feeds into an even bigger (and even more ridiculous) false narrative equating the right and Donald Trump with wholesale racism, xenophobia and jingoism—it suddenly becomes precious to you.
This is, of course, all operating under the assumption that what President Trump said about birthright citizenship is indeed, unconstitutional.
It absolutely, positively, provable, cross-my-heart-hope-to-die … is not. (Seriously.)
Which can mean only one of two things: either you’re all so intellectually lazy that you can’t bother to take two seconds to study the author of the 14th amendment and what he specifically said about who it encompassed … or you’re just intellectually dishonest.
Not great either way, America—not great either way.
But let’s assume Donald Trump cannot, per our laws, end birthright citizenship. I ask you again: if you believe the Constitution is the garbage document you routinely say it is ….
Why would you care?
Mary Ramirez is a full-time writer, creator of www.afuturefree.com (a political commentary blog), and contributor to The Chris Salcedo Show. She can be reached at: firstname.lastname@example.org; or on Twitter: @AFutureFree