No one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark.

You only run for the border when you see the whole city running as well.

Your neighbor is running faster than you, breath bloody in their throats.

The boy you went to school with who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory is holding

a gun bigger than his body.

You only leave home when home won't let you stay.

I'm Wesley Morris.

I'm Jenna Wortham and this is still processing.

And that was the beginning of a poem called Home by Werson Shire who is a Kenyan born Somali

woman who was raised in Great Britain, an incredible poet.

And we couldn't think of any other way to begin the show than by reading it because it is

maybe the most relevant short form piece of literature I could think to encapsulate both

the sadness, my sense of outrage, my bewilderment, my moral misgiving about what is happening

right now allegedly on behalf of you and me as American citizens, but against many of

the people who want to come to this country.

And it's an argument for humanity.

It's an argument for understanding that these aren't numbers.

They're people.

These are people who are in search of something better.

And that is something as a country we used to offer those people.

And now we are threatening to take it away.

We are threatening to take it away.

...