As a young spoiled American kid I didn’t appreciate America though really I don’t think that anyone can, without context, truly appreciate their environment. Fish have no word for water (or anything else, I imagine, but you know what I mean) and until you start stepping out of your space, you can’t really understand that space.
Not that I had to leave America to appreciate the United States – I just needed that context. Education came slowly but especially in college and the first couple of years after my Official Education ended I mixed with people from all over the world. Friends from Nigeria and Sudan, Egypt, South Africa, England, New Zealand… meeting Keola and Rowan who brought with them experiences of China and Germany. Israel, Japan, my crush Seyda from Turkey… through meeting these people, talking to them and their families, I got to know a LOT more about the world around me and I learned to be pretty proud of the United States. Our citizens shouldn’t be allowed to use words like “warzone” for our cities or “police state” or “surveillance nation”. We do NOT know what that means.
We make mistakes and take missteps and we shove our soldiers in unwelcome crevices and are kind of crude in a lot of ways – but the ideals and ideas towards which the nation claims to strive are pretty noble. I think there’s something to be said for a nation that was literally founded with purpose rather than a country simply defined by people tracing lines over and over and over again till they became boundaries and borders.
And so I became angry that the flag only gets to be waved by guns rights activists or Christians or Republicans. As a socially-liberal conservative or as a fiscally-conservative liberal I’ve long been offended that the identity of Patriot seems to denied to me. You can’t wave an Amercian flag without it being seen as a ‘Merican flag and that’s just a damned shame. My nation’s identity shouldn’t be owned by it’s lowest common denominator – no matter how common that denominator may be.
2020 hammered down the idea that we’ve long lost our way. Trump allowed a shining orange head on the festering blister and the vileness that he’s unleashed and channelled and rained down on the world around him has perhaps forever marred our dreams and purpose. He has been (and continues to be) a symptom, lightning rod and puppet of the American disease – certainly not the source – but truly, he’s the ‘Merican president… not the President of the United States of America.
As Kristen and I watched the New Year celebrations from all across the world I cried a little bit. I’d had a long day. I hadn’t slept. I was drinking tequila. All of that could’ve made me a little vulnerable – but I was also coming to the realization that I’m no longer a patriot. I hate this place. I could even imagine wanting to leave it.
I can Love the dream that was but I don’t think anyone else does. As I watched Dubai’s stunningly choreographed light and rocket show I was kind of amazed by it’s artistry. Athens fired rockets over the temples of long-dead gods. Moscow’s empty streets were lit but stately shells lighting the Kremlin in dramatic reds and whites stretching the few observers in the streets into long-reaching shadows. Australia’s party was a bit much for me, electronica thundering and spurring on explosions and rivers of light – and New Zealand was just showing off their success against COVID with their packed streets…
…And then the dateline rolled around to the East Coast of America. Due to the under-appreciated vagaries of streaming media Peacock’s “Live coverage” came to use about a minute or two past the actual moment but finally New York’s turn came.
Jesse J’s version of “Imagine” was stirring and beautiful but broken. She sang for an impossible vision, not a hope for a utopian future. The impotent spurts of sparkle that dribbled forth One Times Square were insignificant compared to the video billboards and digital advertisements. Nothing outshone Fox and Samsung and McDonalds and Clear Channel as the ball dropped counting down on a video advertising a South Korean car company. Pre-recorded music from the last century played as we worshipped what we were, not what we are – much less what we can become. New York’s Times Square has always celebrated excess and commercialism, consumerism and trash – but with crowds replaced by frenetic inflatable air dancers it seems like a last hurrah for 2020, not a celebration of a new year… not a message of hope.
I’m not stupid. I know nothing changed at midnight last night. But my America was always about hopes and dreams.
Loud ones.
We’re whimpering.
We’ve forgotten how to even sell celebration.
Happy New Year.
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