By Enrique Tessieri
My great-grandfather was a refugee from Italy. I admire and respect him so much that I gave one of my sons his first name. I have lived in many countries as an immigrant and I am proud of this as well.
Moreover, over a million Finns left this country to other parts of the world. I raise my hat to them for their courage and ambition.
I was born in Argentina, one of the first nations in the world that opened its doors to immigration in the mid-1850s. I grew up in California, where I saw great changes take place during the civil rights movement thanks to Martin Luther King.
In Finland I heard from my grandparents and mother how a country with little resources held its own against a ruthless neighbor.
I think I know a little about what it means to be an immigrant. One thing I and millions of others do not deserve are your insults and ignorance fanned by the flames of hatred.
Do not throw dirt on our names, please.