Don’t let justices in ’22 kill off the Spirit of 1776
Forty-six years. That’s how much time has passed since the first, and last, time I staged a summer theater production. It was my own version of “1776,” which I had written from my memory of the movie and from lines
I’d cribbed from listening to the album. After two years of watching “Bicentennial Minutes” on TV that recounted the events surrounding our fight for independence from British rule, I was proud of this country and the ideals it represented. Writing, directing, and producing “1776” seemed like the perfect way to celebrate our nation’s 200th birthday.
It had an extremely limited run — only one performance on July 4, 1976 — but the reviews, which I also wrote, were excellent.
The production, however, was not without its challenges. For one thing, casting was tricky. I was limited to neighborhood kids who were available and willing to be in my show. This led to my eventually assigning the role of George Washington to a 6-year-old girl. Since Washington didn’t have a lot of lines, I, in my directorial wisdom, told her to stand off to the side and try to look taller.
But despite this and other difficulties, including a lack of costumes and scenery, every neighbor I invited to the play showed up. Although, this may have had less to do with their desire to see a dramatic re-enactment of our nation’s birth and more to do with my parents’ well-stocked bar. In the spirit of the occasion, both the admission and the drinks were free.
I remember thinking about our country’s next big birthday on July 4, 2026, and wondering how old I would be when the United States turned 250. After some quick calculations, I determined the answer was that I would be old. But that was OK because I couldn’t think of a luckier place to live than in the land of the free and home of the brave.
Forty-six years. That’s how long I’ve had to discover the ways in which my views in 1976 were idealistic and naïve. Yes, this country has not always lived up to the principles of equality and inalienable rights set forth in the Declaration of Independence, but I was always confident that we would, through advocacy and votes, eventually course-correct.
In law school, I grew to respect the U.S. Supreme Court as a deliberative body that took its role as final arbiter of the law seriously. It was the early 1980s, and I had seen how in the postWorld War II years the court, which included justices appointed by both political parties, understood that the words and spirit of the Declaration of Independence, as well as the Constitution and Bill of Rights, were meaningless if they didn’t apply equally to all people.
A highlight of my law school education was sitting in on oral arguments at the Supreme Court and meeting afterward with Justice Harry Blackmun, who wrote the majority opinion in Roe v. Wade. The experience impressed upon me that our justice system, while not perfect, is superior to any other. One of the plaintiffs arguing before the court that day was The Defender Association of Philadelphia, where I would later work as an assistant public defender. That job taught me it takes constant vigilance if the words “with liberty and justice for all” are to be more than just an empty recitation.
A matter of weeks. That’s how long it has taken for my pride in our justice system to turn to rage. Bodily autonomy, separation of church and state, reading Miranda rights, and the right of states to legislate for safety by enacting reasonable gun laws have all gone out the window. And the court has signaled that the government’s ability to protect the environment, marriage equality, LGBTQ rights, access to contraception, and libel laws are next on the chopping block. Apparently, justice is having a going out of business sale.
In the midst of this wholesale dismantling of legal precedent, we are learning about a well-orchestrated plot to throw out the legitimate results of a presidential election. This violent attempted coup, which some — including the former president — apparently wish had been more violent, was planned, plotted and covered up by people who swore an oath to a document they clearly don’t believe in.
Two hundred forty six years. That’s how long ago a group of powerful and privileged men put everything on the line for the ideals of justice and equality. We owe it to them to keep the ideals of the American experiment alive by talking to each other, advocating for change at all levels of government, donating to causes and campaigns that respect the worth and dignity of all people, and by voting. Because, if we don’t, by the time July 4, 2026, rolls around, we will have returned to the days of the majority being ruled by the tyrannical few.
None. The amount of time we have to waste. I’ve grown a lot since staging “1776,” but my faith in the American people to do the right thing has remained unchanged. For our 250th birthday, I won’t be putting on another show. But if we can pull this off, I promise the drinks will be on me.