Happy Fourth of July to everyone celebrating America’s 250th birthday!
And to anyone wondering why your neighborhood suddenly sounds like it’s being invaded by a small army...I’m sorry.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve always had a complicated relationship with the Fourth of July. I love a good barbecue. I enjoy spending time with friends. I appreciate a three-day weekend as much as the next overworked American. And I will never say no to potato salad. But I’ve never understood why we’re all expected to transform into unpaid ambassadors for the Department of Patriotism every July.
Flags on every porch.
Red, white, and blue everywhere.
Country songs about dirt roads, Jesus, pickup trucks, and freedom.
Half the neighborhood recreating military battles with illegal fireworks.
Frankly, it’s all a bit...much.
Maybe it’s because I’ve always been suspicious of anything that expects everyone to feel exactly the same way at exactly the same time.
Stand.
Salute.
Sing.
Wave.
Cheer.
Don’t ask too many questions.
As a gay kid growing up in the Bible Belt, I learned pretty early that whenever everyone is expected to think alike, someone inevitably gets left out of the invitation.
That experience left me with a lifelong allergy to tribalism.
Political tribes.
Religious tribes.
Sports tribes.
Brand tribes.
Even LGBTQ+ tribes, if I’m being honest.
In my opinion, the moment your identity depends on believing your team is always right and everyone else is the enemy, you’ve stopped thinking for yourself. You’ve outsourced your personality.
I know. I know. “It’s just a flag.” “It’s just fireworks.” “We’re just celebrating our country.”
Sure. Whatever lies you need to tell yourself.
Propaganda rarely announces itself. It doesn't arrive wearing a name tag. It slips in through the front door, disguised as tradition, wrapped in hamburgers, beer, fireworks, and a soundtrack catchy enough to keep us from asking uncomfortable questions.
Propaganda is one way patriotism can drift toward nationalism. Pride can become superiority. Love of country can become the comforting illusion that “one nation under God” is uniquely righteous while the rest of the world is just trying to catch up.
History has heard that imperialist bullshit before:
The Romans were spreading civilization.
The British were spreading order.
The French were spreading enlightenment.
America has spent generations telling itself it’s spreading freedom.
Funny how every empire has a marketing department.
Don’t get me wrong. I love a lot about America. I love our messy commitment to free speech, even when it gets abused. I love our creativity, our generosity, and our stubborn optimism. I love that this country has given millions of people, including me, opportunities they might never have had elsewhere.
But I also believe loving something means seeing it clearly. It means acknowledging slavery alongside liberty. Jim Crow alongside democracy. The AIDS crisis alongside medical innovation. Japanese internment alongside constitutional ideals. Progress alongside backlash. Hope alongside hypocrisy.
The light doesn’t erase the dark.
The dark doesn’t erase the light.
Both are part of the story.
To me, healthy patriotism requires seeing the dark and the light. Not pretending our country is flawless. Not insisting it’s irredeemable. Simply loving it enough to tell the truth, even when that truth is problematic.
Because countries, like people, don’t grow by pretending they’ve never made mistakes. They grow by learning from them.
So tonight I'll enjoy the fireworks. My lizard brain always loves a good light show. I'll laugh with friends, eat something unhealthy, and take a moment to remember the countless sacrifices that have shaped this country over the past 250 years.
Not just the soldiers who fought for our independence, but everyone who kept pushing America a little closer to its own ideals. The abolitionists. The suffragists. The labor organizers. The civil rights leaders. The LGBTQ+ activists. The immigrants who built new lives here. The ordinary people who believed this experiment was worth improving, even when it fell painfully short.
I’ll also remember that the greatest expression of freedom isn’t waving a flag. It’s having the freedom to ask whether we’re living up to what that flag is supposed to represent.
That’s a celebration worthy of Independence Day.
Not blind pride. Honest pride.
The kind that isn’t afraid of the dark or the light.
Keep calm and keep cool!
Clint 🌈✌️
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FROM THE ARCHIVES
BORN THIS WAY ON THIS DAY
07-04 = Edmonia Lewis (1844-1907) = American sculptor 🌈
07-04 = Stephen Boyd (1931-1977) = British actor 🌈
07-04 = Steven Cojocaru (1970- ) = Canadian fashion critic 🌈
07-04 = Stephen Foster (1826-1864) = American composer 🌈
MAN CRUSH OF THE DAY
“I don’t know what goes into being a star. Perhaps it is the capacity to explain the character and story to any audience, in any language, in any country.”
Stephen Boyd
Here in New Mexico, pancakes are part of the celebration. I'm with you, no required feelings. Like you, I was never good with those. The herd, however, can sense that you're not onboard, and you might be edged out. From time to time.
Enjoy the day, amigo. We love you, snarls and all, and we love the ideals of this country, despite its many (and current) failures.
Clint, I think you have found the KEY:
"To me, healthy patriotism requires seeing the dark and the light. Not pretending our country is flawless. Not insisting it’s irredeemable. Simply loving it enough to tell the truth, even when that truth is problematic."
Fondly, Michael