Do you want your country back?

You may not agree with Calvin Cowen. Or maybe you do.



In either case, it's probably helpful to try to understand his concerns. Calvin offers a glimpse into South Carolina’s debate over illegal immigration and reminds me of those who proclaim more broadly, “I want my country back.”



Last night Calvin addressed a panel of three of state senators during a public meeting on legislation to institute Arizona-style illegal-immigration law.

This is what he said:



“A while back I managed to lock myself out of my car. It happened to be a residential neighborhood so I figured the best solution would be to find a telephone, a telephone book and call a locksmith. I looked across the street, saw somebody sitting on the porch. As I approached I noticed the woman was holding a telephone in her hand. ... Long story short -- Didn’t speak a lick of English. She couldn’t help me. I really miss the days when neighbors could help neighbors in America.  It used to be we all spoke a common language and we could help each other. Please ask yourself 'How much illegal immigration can our state stand?' A drive through Berea the other day convinced me we already have more than we can stand. If you don’t read or speak Spanish you probably don’t want to go shopping in Berea. ... My business is hurting. My language and culture are in danger of being lost."



I know what you’re thinking: A telephone book? They still make those?

Then you're wondering: If you do have a car but don't have one of the world's 4.6 billion cellphones, and you've locked yourself out of your car in a strange neighborhood, why not seek a telephone from the person you were presumably there visiting in the first place?



But let's get back to the issue at hand. When you encounter someone in this country who only speaks Spanish, do you assume they’re here illegally?

Can a drive through a town like Berea, S.C. (U.S. Census: 76 percent white; 13.4 percent Hispanic or Latino) convey a good sense of the inhabitants’ immigration status?

Do you, too, find yourself nostalgic for the good old days of neighbors helping neighbors? How is your relationship with your actual neighbors?
Does the presence of immigrants make you fear for your own culture?

Is it time to get back to the good old days?

And if so, what were those days like, and how far do we need to go back?