We are embroiled in an emotionally charged national debate on immigration. The wrenching question: What to do with the millions of illegal immigrants, many of whom have lived here for years, if not decades, and have had children who are U.S. citizens? Immigrants currently account for a big chunk of our population, and they produce about 750, 000 children each year.

Many would like to stop or drastically curtail immigration — "keep America for Americans," they believe. That's the hidden agenda behind much of the opposition to immigration reform that would provide a way for illegal immigrants to become legal citizens.

Perhaps amnesia has conveniently set in. Have we forgotten that, other than descendants of Native Americans, we all carry the genes of immigrants from somewhere down the line?

Opposition to immigration is not new. We've warmed up to it when we needed workers to fill labor shortages, and turned nasty toward immigrants at other times. In the 19th century Chinese workers were brought in to build the Western railroads and work the gold mines. Mexicans were welcomed in the 1920s to fill a labor shortfall. In both instances subsequent restrictive legislation had legions of those immigrants deported. And throughout our history, "nativist" movements have sprung up from time to time, praising previous generations of immigrants while casting suspicion, if not disdain, on the new arrivals.

In a talk at the Asia Society in Washington, D.C., last year, U.S. Commerce Secretary Carlos Gutierrez pointed out that, contrary to the belief that we are now swimming in more immigrants than ever, in 1890 14.8 percent of our population was foreign-born compared to today's 12 percent.

And if we think about it, the descendants of those 1890 immigrants that multiplied exponentially over the succeeding decades — immigrants, especially in the first and second generations, tend to have large families — contributed substantially to "The Greatest Generation" that Tom Brokaw wrote about. Expanding on that thought, descendants of immigrants have been at the core of all the great generations of Americans — they gave us the Declaration of Independence and our Constitution.

To recapture the spirit and compassion of America, and ignite the inspiration to resolve the current immigration crisis (I'm not proposing any particular solution), perhaps we should meditate on the words of Emma Lazarus, a young Jewish poet and novelist who gave us those inspiring words that are engraved on a plaque on the inside pedestal of the Statue of Liberty: "Give me your tired, your poor ... " They are also inscribed on a wall in the Customs area at John F. Kennedy airport in New York City — a welcome you will not see in an arrival area anywhere else in the world.

Emma Lazarus wrote her poem "The New Colossus" in 1883 for an art auction to raise money for the construction of a pedestal for the Statue of Liberty. Emma was not an immigrant but rather a fourth-generation American from a well-to-do prominent New York family. The poem probably was inspired in part by her distress over the violence against Jews in Eastern Europe in the pogroms that were flourishing. Emma dedicated much of her time to aiding the needy in New York City. The poem, though, was forgotten until stumbled upon in an archive by a patron of the Statue after Emma's untimely death at age 37 in 1887. It wasn't until 1903 that it was placed in its entirety on a plaque at the base of the Statue.

The poem forever changed the meaning of Ms. Liberty from its original intention as an inspiration to oppressed nations to a welcoming of suffering, poor and freedom-seeking people. While most of us are familiar with the last five lines, all 14 lines of the sonnet are powerful reminders of what America has represented for the world — and still can!

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-tossed to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door."

The soul of America rings out with these words. But will we now dim the torch and send the huddled masses to find breathing room elsewhere? As we tire of the tired and the poor, will we lose our soul? Soul-searching questions that deserve serious attention.

If compassion doesn't move you, there are other potent practical reasons that might get you to rethink sending those huddled masses to other shores — masses that might even be essential to the survival of our way of life.

More on that next week.

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Bernard Starr, Ph.D., formerly professor of developmental and educational psychology at the City University of New York, now teaches psychology and leads the Spiritual Forum at Marymount Manhattan College. In addition to his work in radio, he is a longtime contributor of commentary and opinion articles to numerous major publications. He is also the main United Nations representative for the Institute of Global Education, which founded the Mucherla Global School in Mucherla, India. His book "Escape Your Own Prison: Why We Need Spirituality and Psychology to be Truly Free" will be published by Rowman and Littlefield in October 2007. His email address is {email OmniCns@aol.com}OmniCns@aol.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Bernard Starr.