It feels like the world is burning around me, literally and figuratively. Wildfires, wars, and hate-fueled politicians riling up their base to spread more hate…and an occasional Waymo car – that was us. Well, not me, specifically, but that was ‘team left of the middle’, burning with their own rage against the Federal police-state in Los Angeles. They call it a victimless crime to burn a driverless car, but there is no such thing. I can, at the very least, understand their anger, if not their actions.

A Strange Past I Vaguely Remember

Through all of this hate, I think back a decade ago and I remember a time when my friends were not just a rainbow of colors, sexual orientations, and cultures, but they were also a rainbow of political ideologies. That’s right, for the most part, we co-existed together, respectfully disagreeing and able to discuss our differences, openly. I challenged myself to mentally time travel back to that era and imagine my conversations with the friends who fell on the opposite¹ political spectrum. What was our life like together? What did we talk about?

Well…that’s easy. Music. Movies. Recipes. We planned camping trips. We discussed the very important questions of our lifetime. Questions that were beyond the grasp of even our most scholarly members of society. We asked: can you hold an asshole in your hand? (The answer, by the way, is NO. You can’t hold a HOLE. A hole is just air with a perimeter around it!)

The truth is, we had fun together. We learned from one another and we grew from listening to each other’s perspective. I don’t remember there being hate in anyone’s voices or a vote for inequality. I’m not sure what changed. It’s easy to say Trump or COVID or any number of other events that occurred in the last 10 to 15 years, but I don’t think it is that simple. And to be fair, I’ve not discussed their beliefs with them since this devolution of our political landscape.

Recently, we had a series of events occur that juxtaposed the two distinct “teams” against the backdrop of democracy and being American. One was a military parade in DC and the other a series of No Kings protests. To be completely fair and honest, I’m not sure anyone I know attended the military parade, and I haven’t asked. I would like to believe that many of the attendees were supporters of our U.S. Army – a lot of people have lost loved ones over the years to war and may have attended in their honor. I do know several people who attended protests, all for various reasons. Reasons I, too, believe in.

Being American

But if we are all striving to preserve America in our own way, shouldn’t we understand what being American even means? I decided to ask people I knew (from various backgrounds) for an answer to that question, using their unique perspectives. Here is what they had to say:

To me, being American is realizing that ones success or failures in life is incumbent on ones own ambitions and recognizing that the uniquely American freedom offered is available for all, and so are the tools to achieve it.

Being American means literally nothing…I appreciate that I don’t live in a war-zone, but I think borders are arbitrary.

I think mostly of the opportunity I had to walk multiple paths in my life. Not a path chosen for me but the paths I chose. I was able to go to college, become a wife, join the military, along with being able to express myself and my opinions freely.

…since a young age I felt very privileged to have been born an American. I knew it was just luck of the universe, but I did see it as a duty to understand and uphold our system. Starting on 9-11-2001, the jingoistic² interpretation that started to take hold and has grown in hideous ways really disturbed me, because a major part of Americanism has always been the welcoming of the tired, poor, huddled masses. I am very aware of my own family’s history and where we fit in that story, but I’m naïve about how important and present the same stories are to all Americans. Perhaps it’s naïve, but I’m hopeful [that] this time in our history is another blip (not our first, not our last), and we will come out the other side with stronger systems and the right beliefs prevailing.

To me, being American is about freedom. Not just in the abstract, but in the everyday moments that shape who I am. It means I can chase my dreams at any age, speak my truth without fear, and build a life surrounded by people from all walks of life. As the daughter of Iranian immigrants, I don’t take that for granted. I carry deep pride in belonging to a country where cultures blend, where hard work can turn into real opportunity, and where I’m free to become exactly who I’m meant to be. That, to me, is the heart of being American.

I believe that being an American means freedom, personal and fiscal responsibility, and taking pride in our society. I believe deeply in the freedom of each individual to live their life how they please, as long as they aren’t hurting others or taking their stuff. I also believe that being part of this society is a privilege, not a right, and that it’s unfair to those who are here legally to allow unregulated immigration. I am a very patriotic person, and although I don’t always agree with our elected leaders, I am so grateful to have been born in the U.S. and been given all of the opportunities that I have. I wish more people would see it that way.

America is a dream—it’s the hope that people from different cultures. religions, and races can all peacefully coexist. That they would recognize that their differences make them stronger. It is the expectation that all people are seen as equal in the eyes of the law. It’s always been one of those dreams that starts off golden and then fades into a nightmare that wakes you up terrified, before you slip back into the golden dream. We’re in the nightmare stage…again. They seem to be coming quicker and getting worse.

This proved a difficult task for most of my friends – both in terms of putting this concept of “being American” into words, but also being limited to a few sentences to express their thoughts. Perhaps that is much like being American…it’s nothing and everything, all at once. A blank slate and a rich tapestry. I also struggle with this question. I was born here, yet I am the daughter of an immigrant. I know the joys and privilege of being here, but I have also felt the pains and frustrations of a society slow to shed its bigotry. I experienced, first hand, being of low-income status and rising to where we are today…a place of privilege. I also feel a deep injustice for our indigenous people and minorities, while also not prescribing to the concept of borders as it pertains to nationalistic pride (practically speaking, however, governments need boundaries). I am grateful to be American, but I am deeply saddened by our current blip, as my one friend called it.

What I saw in each of the answers (responses that came from Republican, Libertarian, Moderate, and Democrat voices) was a sense that America is a land of authenticity, freedom, responsibility, and a sort of unified diversity. There was also a lot of hope that this, too, shall pass. I have long felt that any subject reduced to binary terms is doomed to be a failed discussion. Next time you disagree with someone, don’t get angry, get curious. Ask them how they got to their beliefs.

In part two, I hope to bring the One Health piece to the conversation. Until such time, I would love to hear more definitions for what being American means to others. It’s a difficult question and it is scary to share those thoughts on an open platform, but if you have a definition you’d like to share, please do!

Side Quest:
I was unable to attend either event – I was busy choking on the air in Baltimore for something that had already been planned long before – but I was following the news of the protests as the day went on. We communicate these days with visuals: pictures, memes, videos…and they were all, every image my eyes fell to, enough to make those very eyes fill with pride, excitement, hope, and a little sadness.

I’m not saying I am ashamed of what I was really doing that day because a day spent with my son, who will continue to grow further apart from us as he gets older, and friends who I rarely get to see, is never a mistake or a shameful thing. I was, however, jumping around an adult fun zone, catching blue squares, weaving through lasers, throwing balls at incoming asteroids, and losing twice in a basketball shoot out. Perhaps it does seem a little silly, but it is also so fucking American. To be honest, one of the best parts of being American.

We were once a nation known for creativity, fun, entertainment, joy, beauty, ingenuity, progress, and not taking itself too seriously. Well, depending on who you ask, but I digress.

1. I’m actually not a huge fan of the term ‘opposite’, because most days the political disagreements don’t seem to fall on a linear scale, but something more circular or, at best, somewhat muddled. ↩︎
2. Jingoistic: characterized by extreme patriotism, especially in the form of aggressive or warlike foreign policy (anyone else here learn a new word today?) ↩︎