Just A Baby...

 

I remember our country’s bicentennial celebration fondly. To my kid mind, 200 years felt like forever. In Baltimore, where much of the struggle for independence happened, the day was taken seriously.

All over the city, fire hydrants were painted in the likeness of the men and women who made it all possible. I remember the parades and celebrations that fueled everyone’s inner patriot. That Halloween, it was very important to me that my costume would turn me into Uncle Sam. My amazing mother made it happen. It seemed like everyone I encountered was expressing their love of America.

People have come from all over the planet to settle in the USA because they knew that they’d be welcomed, loved, and live with freedoms and rights they didn’t have back home. Truly, almost all of us got here the same way. My own ancestors came on boats that arrived in New Orleans and went up the Mississippi River. They came to escape extreme poverty and landed in the land of plenty. My husband’s family came to escape political turmoil. Many of my friends’ families were fleeing terrible regimes. All taking different routes, but all seeking the land of promise that America offered.

Now, 50 years later, I realize what a young nation we are. Obviously, I learned history and observe the people around me, so that kid in an Uncle Sam costume makes more sense than I knew then. When I turn on the news – or just leave my house – I see the reality of this promised land of the free. Freedom is available conditionally. If you have the right complexion, the right finances, and worship the same way they think you should, you’re welcome to the party, Everyone else should go sit in the corner.

It seems that the Sam that I knew and loved, was actually a toddler who would rather stick out his tongue, grab the treats, and throw a loud tantrum when things don’t go his way. I know that there are grownups around. Do they not realize that he needs a spanking and a nap?

July 4^th has always been a fun time to celebrate the America we aim to be. Until the toddler in chief is sent to his room, his friends are sent home, apologies are doled out so we can get back to being the welcoming, loving land of the free. I’m not in the mood for a party.

Might I recommend leaving your neighborhood, greeting someone you don’t know – maybe someone who doesn’t look like you – and join them at their table? Or invite them to your own? Tell stories, tell jokes, listen to music. Appreciate how beautiful it is that you all came to be in each other;s presence. THAT is what America is supposed to be.

Also, blowing crap up in your driveway is not very patriotic. It’s annoying and my dogs hate you. Stop it.