Willing to settle for America

During my junior year in college, I was in a poetry class in which the professor asked us to write a short statement on what we thought constituted "good poetry." As it was, and despite my reputed status as a "good English major," I'd hardly ever thought about poetry, let alone read much. So I felt about as qualified to comment on the subject as I was on proper luge form. Still, I gave the assignment thought, and what I came up with was ultimately a glorified process of elimination. I described what irritated me in poetry (including but not limited to the pale-skinned, angst-ridden, blood-filled emo poems I suffered through in high school creative writing units) and made a passable shadowy outline of my preferences from there.

Oddly enough, I operate in much the same way in regard to patriotism. It's hard for me to define how, if, or in what ways I might be considered patriotic, but it's easy for me to pick out the people who don't belong at my Independence Day party. I don't like it when people fail to distinguish between the honor of military personnel and the debatable virtue of the wars in which they fight. I don't like it when people wax poetic about their desire to expatriate to other countries without first thoughtfully considering our own. I don't like utter apathy or non-voters, particularly if such people then complain or criticize the government. I don't like it when people fly the American and the confederate flags side by side.

Consequently, I (somewhat ironically) feel my patriotism most keenly in combination with sensations of anger, sadness, and resentment, which typically arise when I feel that my fellow citizens are representing me poorly, both to ourselves and to our friends overseas. Being an American is part of my identity, as much as is being white, female, or speculatively Latina. Just as I'm embarrassed and angered by the KKK and Phyllis Schlafly blabbing on about being representative of white people and women, I feel a sting of nationalistic shame at the Westboro Baptist Church's hateful rallies, or at the line of people still demanding to see Obama's birth certificate. As stated, though, the bright side is that this kind of outrage helps me know more specifically where I stand as a patriotic American citizen, and where my values lie (or more specifically, where they don't).

Part of the reason I can keep a positive attitude while using this system of PoE Patriotism is that, more often than not, I feel that when I'm repulsed by these outlying groups, I align with the majority. Most rational people recognize that our powerful and well-respected government wouldn't put someone in the position of Commander In Chief without doing a background check at least as thorough as the ones done for air traffic controllers. And even some of the most controversial evangelical Christian groups distance themselves from Westboro. We affirm ourselves as unified Americans if only by agreeing that at least we're not that crazy.

That is, until recently. With hysteria about the NYC mosque continuing to smolder and reports of extremist action (how else to characterize arson and the burning of religious texts?) on the rise, for the first time I have begun to feel worried and unsure about my country. The people who oppose the religious freedom of Muslims in the United States clearly fail to understand what it means to live here: having the right to peaceably assemble to worship whatever religion you choose. Even worse, they take liberal advantage of another U.S. right (the freedom of speech) to pursue the cause of hatred and oppression in their protests, effectively forcing the entire country into a painful, unfunny catch-22. We're expected to support the freedom of speech afforded to the protesters, even while they protest the freedom of religion.

Perhaps worst of all, in a media climate desperate for drama and continual stimulation, both the extremist anti-Islam protesters and their opponents (the more populous "WTF?" group--also known as "everyone else"), are being represented with nearly equal tolerance and validation in the news. Constant attempts are being made to sensationalize and even rationalize the actions of bigoted, albeit frightened, individuals, who (whatever their motivations) will alienate, wound, and anger thousands of American citizens. The political climate in this country has become so confused, apathetic, and divided that I can no longer take solace in the knowledge that the more accepting, tolerant view is the dominant one--because it is difficult for me to assess that this is truly the case.

I will admit that it's the book burning that got to me the most. A Florida church is currently gathering support for a rally to be held on 9/11, during which the participants will communally burn as many Qur'ans as they can get their hands on. Considering that we live in a society in which the burning of books has become a cliche for intolerance and oppression, I have never been more confused or ashamed on behalf of the citizens of my country.

Because I do, indeed, live in the United States and because in my heart I can't accept that absurdity or stupidity will become the norm, I will continue to hope that this, too, shall pass.

But I also worry that it won't, because I simultaneously recognize that intelligent, digitally-savvy, largely apathetic, average individuals like myself are, in our silence and indifference, part of what allowed the extremists to have as loud of a voice as they do. Our moderately-minded wheels are going to need to get a lot squeakier if we ever expect to get any grease.