My fellow American,
You may feel weary right now about the condition of our country.
So many of us feel exhausted, worn out, riddled with uncertainty, and worried about how we can get out of the mess we’re in. We are disgusted by the division and acrimony, the finger-pointing, and the endless partisanship that dangerously envelops our public lives and is tearing apart our very nation.
If you feel this way, you’re not alone.
As you know, I’ve been traveling the country to speak out about where we are and how we can move forward—together. Wherever I go, people from all walks of life and all political persuasions feel as I suspect you do: We can do better and be better—as individuals, as communities, and as a nation.
If you’re like me, you love this country. Honestly, I love it deeply. I know that’s not always a popular thing to say nowadays.
Yet in marking another July 4th—which was the 250th anniversary of our nation—it can be hard to express such love. Such is the nature of love, right? In all parts of our lives, love is often filled not only with joy, but with ambivalence, conflicting feelings, and even anger. It can make celebrations of our love for others—and for this nation—tenuous, difficult, even foul.
So, what does it mean to love America today?
For me, I think about what “patriotism”—and being a patriot—means. It isn’t about holding a blind allegiance to the country, wrapping ourselves in the flag, and using it as a weapon to denigrate, diminish, or even decimate those who look different from us or hold different views. I flatly reject such patriotism. I believe we all must.
Nor do I subscribe to a view that relentlessly trashes America, a view that is blind in its own ways to the good and goodness that exists throughout our nation, one that believes we must tear down the country in order to rebuild it. This patriotism is a dead end.
Instead, I urge us to embrace—indeed, to enact—a “patriotism of devotion.” Such patriotism is rooted in a deep affection for the nation—a love of the nation—that is so deep that you choose to stick with it through thick and thin, especially when you do not like what it is becoming or the direction it is going.
A patriotism of devotion beckons us to step forward, turn outward toward one another, and get to work—together. In this kind of patriotism, we see ourselves as builders, partners, and creators—even re-creators—in a shared American project where each of us matters, each of us has something to contribute, and each of us is afforded the dignity we deserve.
Retreating, surrendering, or giving up cannot be the answer, even though there may be days when you may feel like doing so. I get it. We all have such days.
Indeed, I am not asking you to pretend that you don’t hold certain feelings amid July 4th and the 250th anniversary of our nation. Nor am I suggesting you should somehow set aside, even suppress, your feelings. They’re yours; you have them. Let’s face it, many of us do.
Rather, I am writing to ask of you something basic but that, amid the current chaos, may feel seemingly out of reach. It is this: We must recommit to building together—or perhaps rebuild the very civic culture of our communities, this nation, and our common lives, so that we might better move toward our shared desire for a more perfect union, amid the real challenges we face.
This should be our American ambition today. To rebuild our country, starting in our local communities. Brick by brick. Block by block. Neighborhood by neighborhood.
We can do this. But we must go together.
Rich Harwood is the president and founder of The Harwood Institute.
The Great American Grumpfest