Not Proud, But Grateful to Be An American

I am not proud to be an American.  I am grateful.  

Please, let me explain. 

Recently a man snapped at me, "I am so sick of everyone bashing our president and our country.  I am proud to be an American, and I will not apologize for who we are."  He is a good man, devoted to God, country and family.  Though I respect him, I do not share his pride.  For me, the personal is political.  Individuals cannot progress toward love without owning their mistakes, nor can a nation.

The instant I was born, I received an enormous inheritance. I did nothing to earn it, nor did my parents or their parents.  Several generations ago, my ancestors took a wild ride across the Atlantic in search of a better life.  Their spirit of adventure did far more than cross an ocean.  It spanned generations to give every member of my family American citizenship.  For that I am eternally grateful.  

Jesus pointedly said, "To whom much is given, much is expected.”  As a grateful citizen I am expected to share the opportunities so generously afforded me.  Following Christ's example, I am expected to extend love and compassion across geographic, racial, religious and political bounds.  Of course, I fail to meet these expectations on a daily basis.  But I borrow the words of the Apostle Paul, “Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal, but I press on…toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:12 & 14)  The best anyone can do is to ascribe to the spiritual axiom, "progress not perfection."

Pretending to be perfect never yields progress.  Admitting our faults and brokenness does.  But that can be an incredibly long and painful process.  We much prefer the quicker, more efficient method of slapping pride over our regrets, fears, and wounds.  We elevate ourselves by putting others down, completely forgetting Jesus's command to do the exact opposite.  Jesus didn't build walls.  He walked through them.  He never held a weapon because his hands were opened to all humanity.  Proud people crucified him.  The grateful followed him.

We cannot erase the stains of hate and greed spilled over the pages of U.S. history, but we can write a new story for our nation.  Though its early chapters include the obliteration of Native Americans, the enslavement of Africans, and the imprisonment of innocent Japanese citizens, we don't have to keep repeating such tragic tales.  And yet, we do.  Jim Crow laws are replaced with a prison system providing cheap labor for multi-million dollar businesses.  The ever-yawning wealth gap swallows average workers whole.  Children still sit in cages at our borders as their helpless parents wail in agony.  Political debates are fueled by feelings, not facts.  People shout over each other and post cruel tweets without even realizing that they are stomping out the voice of truth, justice and love.

"To whom much is given, much is expected."  As citizens we must contribute to America's vast collection of stories where hope defeats despair and good triumphs over evil.  If that seems like too daunting a task, we can start by fact checking information before sharing it on social media.  More importantly, we can embrace the ideals that build up the character of an individual and consequently a nation, humility, honesty, compassion, wisdom, and gratitude.  

Gratitude conveys what pride cannot. I am grateful for the right to vote, to speak the truth, to protest and to stand for what I believe. I am grateful for my education and especially for the teachers who inspired me to chase my dreams.  I am grateful for the women who forged a path for me to find meaningful work in a profession previously reserved for men.  I am grateful for the courage of my black and brown neighbors who challenge me to stop wallowing in privilege so I can start working for racial justice.  I am grateful for the sacrifices made by complete strangers who fought for the ideals set forth in the U.S. Constitution that we are still striving to achieve — life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for all.  When we hoard such ideals and snatch the American dream away from others, we squander the riches of our inherited citizenship.  In so doing, we bankrupt the soul of our nation.    

That indomitable spirit that spans generations to create a place of belonging travels on the wings of gratitude, not the weight of pride.  Therefore I am not proud to be an American.  I am grateful.  If we work together, America can be a country where all of its citizens — not just the privileged few — have reason to celebrate.  When pride falls and gratitude rises, we will find the land of the free and the home of the brave.