We visited the Statue of Liberty this past weekend and I found myself wondering whether they will soon be adding “Don’t” to the front of the famous poem by Emma Lazarus.

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore,” the poem says. “Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”

“Don’t give me your tired, your poor” sounds about right these days, the way things are going. For good measure, they could add a warning about immigrants eating dogs and cats.

In the wake of the recent election, I found it disheartening to visit Lady Liberty, which greeted my grandparents more than a century ago. Champa and I went there with our son and his family during a family get-together in New York.

Our four granddaughters were especially excited to see the names of their great-great-grandparents on the Wall of Honor at Ellis Island. These were my dad’s parents, Reuben and Sarah Jarmul, who both came to New York after fleeing religious persecution in Eastern Europe. My mother’s family came from Germany a few decades later, narrowly escaping the Holocaust in Germany.

Today’s refugees will not be so lucky — and their situation is just one of many issues that make me despair about what lies ahead during the next four years.

Several months ago, I wrote about how we were considering a post-election Plan B focused on “slow travel,” which has become popular among older Americans and is substantially less expensive than many people assume. Now this has become our Plan A. We’re going to keep our home in Durham, at least for now, but will spend much of our time elsewhere around the world. We think it’s our best way to stay sane during the next four years.

We could change our minds. Maybe the next Trump presidency will be less tumultuous than we expect. Maybe we’ll experience a health setback, a family crisis or something else. Maybe we’ll get tired of the road. Serving in the Peace Corps and traveling frequently have made us comfortable with uncertainty and foreign adventure.

For now, though, we need to get away, although we’ll remain engaged and seek new opportunities to serve as volunteers. In three weeks, we’re leaving on an extended trip to Australia and New Zealand, and we have other trips planned after that.

As we head for other shores, we’ll keep Lady Liberty in our hearts. My last glimpse of her this past weekend was from the ferry returning us from Ellis Island to New York’s Battery Park. It was sunset and the sky was bathed in red. As I gazed behind us, across the harbor where my grandparents came to find safety and freedom, I watched the statue’s outstretched lamp as it slowly faded into the gathering darkness. 

I hope it will shine more brightly when we come back.