For all its flaws as a nation, I am proud of my American roots
IGO away for a few weeks and the United Kingdom all but implodes, Ireland beats Italy and Argentinian footballing icon Lionel Messi retires from the international game. The annual holiday was an epic undertaking this year as we jetted off to my home away from home in Upstate New York, where my family emigrated to in 1995. The excitement the Little Fella and the Whirlwind Princess experienced arriving at Shannon Airport seeing all the planes was matched by yours truly as the moment arrived after months of planning, spending and anticipating.
The biannual family reunion is always celebrated with a barbecue and in typical Irish barbecue fashion we were watching the skies all day for rain. I took control of the barbecue tongs and proceeded to disappear in a cloud of smoke, having wilfully ignored the advice of the cook out kings gathered nearby. Bleary eyed I proceeded to undercook everything and was substituted by my aunt for the children’s food, which couldn’t be served raw.
We had only arrived and news broke of the horrific events at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando where 49 people were killed by Omar Mateen in the worst gun attack in American history.
What shocked me was the response of people to the attack. The news coverage was amazing but there was a depressing sense of hopelessness that this is going to happen again and again. The LGBT community was defiant and strong in response to the attack and there was the usual bluster from Trump, but for most Americans it was another roll your eyes and bury your head in the sand moment.
Trump’s hardline attitude included bragging about how he predicted more attacks from Muslims. He claimed Mateen was born abroad and wouldn’t be in America if he were president, even though the gunman was born a few miles from where the orange faced billionaire was raised in New York.
The strategy blew up in his face and his popularity ratings plummeted. Hilary Clinton’s measured tone, in which she pointed out that people on FBI watch lists should not have access to assault weapons, struck a more successful chord with the public and in the following days Trump sacked his campaign manager.
On the trail in Arizona he took to the podium and declared, ‘I feel like a supermodel’, before pausing. No, not to retreat from his bombast, but to multiply it, ‘ but ten times better’.
On a ferry from Provincetown, Maine, to Boston, I let out a guttural roar of delight as Robbie Brady headed home against Italy, waking some of the affulent slumbering daytrippers with the noise. The goodtime vibes continued as we wandered around the beautiful, historic city of the Irish and the Italians. The American dream was still alive for so many (and thriving) and it was wonderful to see the melting pot of cultures in action, even in a city which is conservative and reserved. The Brexit news was another shocker and the whole fortnight got me thinking about what it means to be different.
America has its flaws, too many to expand upon in these column inches, but the idea given voice at the old State House in Boston in the Proclamation of Independence in 1776 still rings true today.
Having been conflicted about my American roots (my mother is American) at times, I left the country prouder of my dual citizenship than ever and in awe of the diversity of mankind, something the people of the UK will be considering this week.