Red, White & Blue

I’ve never considered myself patriotic. To me, liberty and freedom is simply a way of life that I’ve never had to question. I was born and raised in the US and don’t know any different. Red, white, blue and the pursuit of happiness simply is.

I was 20 years old when 9/11 happened and I remember it vividly. It was terrible, the realization that a group of people could hate my country that much. This was the start of me changing my attitude towards America, or at least when I paused to think about what we had here. My protective bubble that I had been raised it now had an awfully big hole in it.

Then I had the opportunity to start traveling internationally. It ticked me off that others would travel with a Canadian flag on their backpacks and lie about being Americans. I’m guessing the Canadians aren’t real happy with a bunch of idiot Americans passing themselves off as their countrymen either. I wasn’t even sure why I really cared about something so inconsequential, but I did. If I put flags on my travel bags, I would have a Canadian and American flag – I’m a citizen of both countries. But why deny and be ashamed of where you came from? As a nation, we haven’t been perfect by any means, but what nation has? As an individual, I felt like I had an opportunity to undue any unjust stereotypes American travelers had. That we weren’t all loud, obnoxious and rude. That we could respect other people’s customs, especially when in their country. That we could be calm, polite and slow to anger . . . even when getting screamed at in Japanese for having the nerve to visit the Hiroshima Memorial.

So when did the big change come? I think it’s when my favorite brother had to go to war. When I realized that whether I agreed with this war or not, soldiers were dying. Not for our own freedom that we take for granted, but for the chance that other people could potentially experience the same thing. (And for oil, but I digress.) And despite my severe dislike that the US is in the Middle East at all, the soldiers and what they’re representing I respect and appreciate. I love that about Americans, that we can hate the war, but still say thank you to a soldier we pass in the airport.

I’ve heard the national anthem more times than I can possible remember. Pre 9/11, it was something you had to sit through to get to the start of a game and politely clapped for when it was over. Post 9/11, I love that people cheer and yell during the last few lines. It puts a big goofy grin on my face every time. Finally people are excited to be Americans.

Without the terrible tragedies that we as a country have suffered together in the past decade, I don’t know that we as a country could have gotten to a place where we’re proud again. I’m not sure I would have gotten to a place where I cared. I hope that the excitement continues and twenty years from now, people still cheer for “the land of the free and the home of the brave.” I hope that I continue to be pro-American. And I hope that through misfortune and uncertainty we are able to create an atmosphere where the next generation can continue to be proud that they are Americans.