Thoughts on patriotism

Today is July 4th; Independence Day, when Americans celebrate the signing of the Declaration of Independence and the founding of the United States; a day traditionally celebrated with summer grilling, parades, fireworks, and the colors red, white, and blue being displayed in various fashions. The holiday has prompted me to think about my country, and my future children; what will I teach them about their country? When they ask what the 4th of July is about, what will I say? What does it mean to be a patriot?

The dictionary definition of the word is, "A person who vigorously supports their country and is prepared to defend it against enemies or detractors." However, this definition doesn't help much; it merely passes the question off to how one defines country. Is it merely the land labeled "United States" on a map, the redwood forests and gulf stream waters described by Woody Guthrie? Certainly, there is a great deal in the land to admire and respect; I've lived in both the Appalachian and Rocky mountains, visited the beaches along both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, and experienced a lot of the land in between. I live in a huge, diverse, wonderful country. To me, however, topography alone doesn't seem to be enough to justify "vigorous support".

Perhaps a nation is defined, then, not so much by lines on a map as the lives and accomplishments of the people who live between them. Certainly, the United States has no shortage of praise-worthy men and women, and Americans have made significant contributions to the world. Of course, my country also has our share of villains, criminals, and malefactors. We can point to leaders such as FDR who led the nation to fight against tyranny and genocide, but we also have men such as Andrew Jackson who committed those very sins. Do I take pride in Martin Luther King, Jr., or hang my head in shame at the injustices that made the civil rights movement necessary? Americans have made great contributions to art and music; this is the country where jazz began, where Buddy Holly and Elvis Presley pioneered rock and roll, and where hip-hop was invented. But we also seem to have a tendency to export our culture at the expense of others -- the Cocacolonization of the world. The actions of Americans seem to be just as diverse as the land in which they live. Just as the terrain has both deserts and lush farmland, our history is mixed with both heroes and degenerates, our actions both meritorious and dishonorable.

That said, it seems to me that there is more good than bad in our history; more to be admired and emulated than to disdain. Of course, that is a value judgment impossible to verify or prove, and certainly my overall favorable view of the history of my country is colored by the fact that I have been born and raised here. Reading the documents that laid the foundation of my nation, however, it seems that despite many stumbles and setbacks, we, as a country, continue to strive toward the ideals written down 233 years ago:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

The execution of the purpose set forth in the Declaration of Independence has evolved over these last two centuries; when the words were written, women could not equal participants in society, and Americans were active participants in slavery. Today, we continue to struggle with both the meaning and implementation of equality. But perhaps what defines us as Americans -- more than geography, more than history -- is the willingness to constantly work toward that goal, to value it, to argue about it, and, when necessary, to fight for it. I do not believe that patriotism is about mindless devotion to a patch of land, or an unexamined pride in one's history, or blind support of a government. To me, it is about the support and defense of the tenets that we have chosen to define us as a country. So long as those principles are the ones set out in Philadelphia on July 4, 1776, I will continue to call myself a patriotic American.