independence day: what is America, and who gets to decide?

This week Americans celebrate Independence Day, a holiday that cheers freedom and demonstrates patriotism, often with jorts, fireworks and excessive day drinking. Just as often, we mark the holiday with neighborhood bike parades, or BBQ and watermelon. Thinking about the various ways we spend our fourths of July leads me to also wonder what exactly it is that we are celebrating. Put another way, what is America, and who gets to decide?

Are we Lee Greenwood’s version? Proud, certain we are free and blessed, and familiar with the agricultural highlights of each state? Is Charlie Daniel’s vision of a national kumbaya correct? Will we “all stick together, you can take that to the bank. That’s the cowboys and the hippies, the rebels and the yanks?” Does Donald Glover get to decide? In “This is America” he reveals a country alive with movement and soul, but also littered with guns, violence, apathy and fear. Maybe Toby Keith gets it right, describing us as an international bar bouncer: “You’ll be sorry you messed with the U. S. of A; we’ll put a boot in your ass, it’s the American way.” Do veterans who think we honor the whole America in the National Anthem by standing or kneeling get to decide what America is? On a national holiday that celebrates our origin story, it is worth thinking about who we think we are.

For many Americans, particularly those who celebrate our 45th President, America does represent freedom and independence. We are the magical land where people prove their worth through their work, where everyone gets a fair shot. God loves to bless us because we are His favorites (outside of Israel, of course). Real Americans have no need to protest anything, because we are great and protesters are just violent whiners. I like this idea of America, and sometimes wish I could believe it. I have learned, however, that in order to believe this is THE version of America, I have to erase more history than I remember. In order to believe, I have to ignore the fact that our country was founded to guarantee the freedom and equality of white men, and white men alone. I have to ignore that fact that we legally and intentionally oppressed, killed and stole from Native and Black peoples. I have to ignore the single mom in Appalachia who works incredibly hard but can’t establish her worth or sustainability to the world around her. 

I recognize these ideas can seem inflammatory, but I don’t write them to provoke. Instead, I am suggesting that we might best celebrate Independence Day by recognizing our entire history. We are both a country that loves our work ethic and a country that refuses to reward the hard work of some parts of our population. We are both a country that believes in equality and justice for all while sometimes legislating injustice and inequality. We are the home of the brave and yet we have punished displays of bravery in brown or female bodies. We cherish our religious freedom but we ban people on the basis of their religion. 

People who study American culture talk about our longstanding tradition of imagining American spaces really as white spaces. In our dominant cultural imagination, hard workers look like white workers. The American heartland looks like quilts sewn and fields plowed and pies baked by white hands. I know the mention of race is off-putting for some, but this is because many Americans have the privilege of not thinking about the cultural and historical racism that links color with suspicion. If we could recognize our passive linking of “real Americans” with “white Americans” then we might embrace our country’s entire story on this historical holiday.

This Independence Day, could we honor our nation’s legacy by thinking independently? Could we reject the narrative that the only way to be patriotic is to love Lee Greenwood and ignore Donald Glover? Could we listen to those who honor our flag by kneeling or standing? On July 4th, 1776, the Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence. A group of brave white men in tights and wigs wrote an epic letter protesting the oppressive injustice of a group of powerful privileged men who refused to consider their perspective or value. The origin story of America is one of protest. Knowing this, it is hard to now accept the idea that those who protest are unpatriotic. Un-American.

I write this with a heavy heart, because I know the dangers of living in the middle space, where American failures and triumphs are remembered. I know the mention of white supremacy feels like an attack on America. While this gives me pause, I am even more afraid for all us if we continue to act as if America only belongs to a certain type of person. The thing that we celebrate on July 4th is the taking of power from a few and the sharing of power with the many. While we have yet to get this right, we come closer to living up to the American democratic ideal when we make room for all kinds of voices to share their experiences of America. This begins by remembering our whole history.

My three year old daughter has a funny speech pattern of addressing people with a possessive pronoun.  She calls her favorite neighbor “my Isabelle.” She says, “I want to go swim with my Emmett” or “I go play with my Marion.” Hearing her talk makes me think about what it means to claim a person. She is not trying to own them with her “my,” she is asserting her devotion to them. She is relationally bound by love and delight to these people. In an age where I hear angry voices claim, “He’s not my President,” or “They aren’t welcome in my America,” I want to celebrate the 4th of July by claiming my America. Our America, which has been exclusive and inclusive, brave and cowardly, bullying and welcoming, oppressing and dignifying...I love it enough to remember all of it. Let’s celebrate the whole America, and every person who helped build, cultivate and shape it. If we look closely, we’ll see that we lose very little, while we gain the ability to recognize that fear and greed reduce us as a people. We must see America as we really are in order to become the country we celebrate.

novel ecosystems: finding beauty in the unexpected

Some fields are given to extreme points of view, where compromise can feel catastrophic.  It is hard not to notice politics is more and more this way, but I have found hope in recent days through other entrenched disciplines.  When people begin to follow lines of inquiry into the nature of the status quo, they sometimes develop a refreshing ability to notice realities of nuanced compromise in the world around them.  These observations open new ways to frame “problems”, and that surely leads to innovative ideas in how to explore possible solutions. 

In ecological writer Emma Marris’ TED talk, she offers a hot take on how we might collectively work to enjoy, preserve and utilize the planet:  Many ecological professionals do not find beauty in the resiliency of nature or in the creative ways species have begun to thrive in non-native locations.  They only advocate for the unaffected, for pristine, original environments.  Marris challenges her discipline to expand it’s capacity to appreciate and study plants that thrive in non-native environments.

In her 2011 book Rambunctious Garden: Saving Nature in a Post-Wild World, Marris is relentlessly positive about the possibilities for interaction and active conservation when we learn to love the parts of the natural world we access.  She argues, “we must give up our romantic notions of pristine wilderness and replace them with the concept of a global, half-wild rambunctious garden planet, tended by us.”  How fabulous!  Instead of preaching conservation to an expanding world in an uncompromising, restricting way, Marris observes that if we continue to believe the world is divided into pristine, beautiful spaces and ruined, developed spaces, then we will not develop the capacity to appreciate and advocate for the health and importance of ALL spaces that allow people to engage in nature.  If we only work on the places unspoiled by humans, then we will only work to protect a sliver of the world.

Marris goes on to urge the celebration of “novel ecosystems.”  This term describes the reality of species migration: plants not native to certain areas now thrive in their new realms.  While some ecologists might treat such evolving environments as aberrant, as mistakes which either should be corrected or at least looked down on by purists, Marris suggests we

1)   Observe environments to notice how such ecosystems develop and evolve.

2)   Find wonder and beauty in the very presence of a novel ecosystem.  Elevate it, investigate it and learn from it.  Sure, that ecosystem might not have existed forever, but it is part of our global environment now, so study it!

3)   Actively work to cultivate such novel ecosystems.  Stop shunning beauty because it reflects a new order rather than representing our origins.  Such a sense of discovery leads us to approach every space with wonder, with possibility. The natural plant world, through it’s passion for growth and survival, teaches us that migration and change can lead to beauty, even if the process challenges earlier accepted thought.

Marris’ challenge is helpful if we take her perspective into other arenas.  As a person of faith, who daily tries to imitate Christ in what he cared about, who he challenged, and who he went to bat for, I am learning, like Marris, that I need to begin my imitative efforts with observation.  If I observe the environment around me, I might notice that there is good work being done in unexpected places.  Rather than shunning such efforts as newfangled, or as an aberration from the original design, I want to lift those up and celebrate them.  Novel ecosystems abound!

A few examples:

This week was PRIDE week in Nashville.  Many Christians take scripture to indicate that God’s design for human growth comes through heterosexual, offspring producing unions.  Because of this, some are unable to see the novel ecosystems that exist in many of our cities.  From my observation, I see many LGBTQ communities beautifully demonstrating the ideals of Christ: that we take care of our neighbors, that we love God by loving others, that we challenge systems of power that abuse vulnerable others, that we embody solidarity with those who hurt, that we forgive and believe reconciliation is possible.  Could our understanding of faith provide space to appreciate a novel ecosystem that appears to be thriving even if it changes the original design?  Could we learn from our LGBTQ friends how to care well for each other?

“Stop shunning beauty because it reflects a new order rather than representing our origins. ”

This weekend I got to be a part of the Southside Blessfest.  In a world full of partisan meanness, angry pitting of government against impoverished communities, territorial non-profits, community suspicion of police forces and churches most committed to their own platforms, I was thoroughly delighted to watch this novel ecosystem thrive.  We came together to support an area known as Edgehill, which primarily consists of government housing.  Here, the details of the community or the event are less important than the communal effort I witnessed.  Rather than government agencies only helping if they ran the show, I witnessed our police precinct actively support the vision of pastors and non-profits.  Rather than the Nashville Housing Authority simply showing up with an anemic presence, I witnessed them actively partner to bring more generous help as the date approached.  Rather than a church helping only if it was their vision with their name attached, I watched churches bring 100s of volunteers to an event spearheaded by others. 

In many ways we are terrible at compromise and collaboration.  We are not great at disrupting our own spheres of influence, and we are even worse at supporting new ideas that challenge our sense of normal or good.  The beauty of Marris’ notion of novel ecosystems is that these new ways of relating to one another are, in fact, everywhere.  Just because it has not happened before does not mean it cannot happen now.  Do not dismiss a new thing just because it is a new thing.  Let’s agree to take Marris’ ideas into the public spheres of faith and social justice.  If we open our eyes and pay attention, novel ecosystems offer us beauty and hope.

the state of us: finding waterfalls through the mud

Good stories struggle.  They have moments when it is not clear that the good guys will win, or even survive.  They have heroines who compromise or take a stand in the service of a long-term goal.  They have heroes who persevere against all odds, getting dirty in the process.  Most of us want to be part of our own good story.  Why is it then that we often lose perspective when our journey becomes imperiled?  We tend to throw up our hands, assume the end has come, and walk away. 

“The presence of hard and wonderful things are not mutually exclusive.  We need to expect the setback in the midst of forward progress, for it will always come.”

We Americans like to think we are models of courage and hard work, but hiding within this narrative are cynics who give up at the first sign of discouragement.  Even though we know struggle is part of all progress—often the most valuable part—we are shocked and consider quitting when we come upon unexpected struggle.  It is not unreasonable to argue that many lack the grit required to stay the course when things seem impossible.  This is why so many schools and consultants overuse the word so often.  “Grit” is the hipster version of determination.  It is the ability to stay at it even when the odds feel stacked against you. 

This idea is problematic though, because encountering difficulty is not the same thing as the odds being stacked against you.  Difficulty is part of life.  Trials come.  Life rarely moves in a linear path of ascension.  Only a collective and sustained cognitive dissonance allows us to live amidst the sadness and decay of others while expecting sunshine and roses for ourselves.  Part of the reason we struggle when we encounter difficulty is that it often catches us off guard.  We observe others, thinking, “I am so inspired by the way she struggled through that trial, learning and growing in the process to become an even better version of herself.” Upon encountering our own fraught path though, we often utter, in astonishment, “I really wanted this dream to come to fruition, but this conflict feels impossible to navigate.  I need to recognize the closed door, protect myself and walk away.”  In recognizing the stories of those around us, we nurture our ability to anticipate and live through our own roadblocks.  In addition to grit we need to develop a greater capacity to contextualize our hopes and dreams with the stories of others.

Contextualizing set backs as a part of progress has a collective impact beyond the obvious personal benefit.  As a society, we need to develop stamina for staying the course even when it is hard.  The city of Nashville, seems committed to rolling out the red carpet to every industry, developer or entrepreneur looking for a place to land. This is mostly wonderful; however, it is hard to become the “IT CITY” without displacing many of the residents of the previously “ignored city.”  Gentrification is hard.  Affordable housing is complicated.  This doesn’t mean we stop trying to find a way forward though!  Nashville is off the growth chart, and we need the grit as a society to create health in all our new dimensions. We need to contextualize the positive aspects of our growth with housing inequities and displacement, and then find the grit to keep creatively addressing our affordable housing deficit.  The presence of frustration means neither that progress is ruined or that we are powerless to correct course. 

Immigration is complicated.  According to some, we have an employment and crime crisis in America because of it.  According to others, we have inefficient court systems, mistrust between police and immigrant communities and poor oversight of employers’ hiring practices.  Recently, a new Attorney General Sessions’ policy to enforce an immigration law in the harshest possible way, while ignoring accepted protections for those seeking asylum, led to a humanitarian crisis in which kids are taken from their parents who are placed immediately under arrest.  Voices from the left and right are coming together to decry such government-initiated depravity.  However, because immigration in complicated, and we as a society typically lack the capacity to sustain effort in the face of difficulty, I am concerned we will accept this state as inevitable, soon walking away in defeat.  In this moment we need leaders who understand that terrible mistakes are part of any success.  We must listen to voices who understand that America often finds itself in unfamiliar territory with no clear solution, and then we find the grit to stay the course and keep working together.

“Only a collective and sustained cognitive dissonance allows us to live amidst the sadness and decay of others while expecting sunshine and roses for ourselves.”

Last week I was hiking in western North Carolina, and it was magical to watch my kids go from grumbling-whiners-forced-out-of-their-technology-caves into honest-to-God-frolickers. They frolicked. Ran and skipped and played and laughed.  They handled the ups and downs with ease, jumping from rock to rock across rivers, crossing every root, stumbles and all.  Then we approached the final ascent to the waterfall.  It was muddy and slick, dangerous even.  Quite steep.  When we got to the top, the trail became a four-inch thick sloppy mud fest.  Our shoes sank, our steps slid, and we nearly missed the majesty of the waterfall because we were covered in mud.  Most of us overlooked the mess to enjoy the beauty, but our tween immediately started demanding I replace his nice shoes.  He said it was all my fault for taking him on this dumb hike.  Grit gone.

Where did all the frolickers go? The beautiful truth is that you can’t get to the waterfall without going through the mud!  The presence of hard and wonderful things are not mutually exclusive.  We need to expect the setback in the midst of forward progress, for it will always come.

Many of us long for an encounter with beauty.  We desire meaningful success.  We strive to find peace.  But we often think we can get there without getting muddy, without losing our footing along the way.  The presence of the hard does not eliminate the possibility of the good.  Keep living in the present, taking each step, breathing in and out, and remember that every hard moment is just that, a moment.  It is not your entire story.  If you want to live a “good story” kind of life, develop a capacity for living through hard things.  It is wildly unlikely that you will find the depth of life’s beauty without encountering pain in the process.  Stop turning back, and learn to navigate the mud before the waterfall.