My ancestors arrived in an America that was nothing but wilderness.

Imagine spending months in miserable conditions on a ship crossing the Atlantic, watching loved ones die along the way and simply being tipped overboard into the fathoms below, and then finally arriving on dry land.

But there were no NGOs to greet them, no hotels to give them shelter, no food stamps.

No, as soon as they stepped off the ship, they immediately had to set about cutting down trees to build shelter and trying to figure out what they could eat among plants and animals that were largely unfamiliar to them, and having no idea what dangers might be awaiting them.

There was no easy way to return home, no way to get assistance if they ran into trouble. If they got sick or injured, there was a good chance they would die.

They suffered and they starved and they built a civilisation for their descendants, against impossible odds. They put their lives on the line to build America and paid for it with their blood, sweat, and tears.

The immigrants that arrive today showed up after all the hard work was done and the risk reduced to near zero and yet want to claim equal credit for making America what it is? I don’t think so.