Has a divided America lost its way?
A friend texted me a cryptic message: “I’m heartsick over this thing that haunts America. But America loves this sewage.”
It was paradoxical. It was short, without fanfare, a digital beacon blinking in the darkness. All the senseless killings of unarmed Americans had taken a toll on him. Deep down, I intuited his feelings because he was an empathetic soul who understood the agonies and sufferings of people.
Has America lost its way?
We’ve become a nation of strangers, divided between us and them, between mask-wearers in public and those who see anyone with them as “losers” or “suckers.” Perhaps it’s always been that way, but no one wants to admit it.
What exactly was this “sewage” he alluded to? He didn’t explain, except to say, “Drop it. I was talking nonsense.” But I couldn’t. It haunted me. His grandparents had suffered. Their Eastern European roots claimed decades of suffering, their uneasiness of seeing scowls in people’s eyes or muttered slurs his ancestors had warned him about in the demagoguery of fascist regimes.
America is losing something so basic. The unfulfilled promise of a better life, “in pursuit of happiness” — even though happiness is an abstract, relative term.
America has been haunted by historic guilt since the early days when the Liberty Bell cracked during its first toll in Philadelphia. The crack was a foretelling fault line symbolizing what was never fully realized: Freedom was meant so all could pursue happiness, not just a select few.
America wears its invisible crack on its sleeve closest to the heart, like the old image of Uncle Sam, whose aging countenance is showing in our country’s infrastructure, like the worry lines of all Americans slouching toward retirement.
Our visible fault lines reveal America’s collective guilt. The unkept promises to Native Americans, who lost much of their lands and were ruthlessly relegated to isolated reservations. Or displaced Mexican citizens after 1848, who ceded the lands of California, Nevada, Utah, most of Arizona, a great part of Colorado and the southwestern corner of Wyoming — not to mention Texas, which Mexico lost in 1836. Or worse, the broken promises to freed slaves, whose 40 acres and a mule were granted by Special Field Orders No. 15 — approved by President Abraham Lincoln, yet rescinded by President Andrew Johnson — returning lands to its Confederate owners. The list continues with the Japanese Americans, Chinese railroad workers, Puerto Ricans, native Hawaiians and, lest I forget, the suffering Irish Americans who faced discrimination and retribution.
America’s fault lines can be repaired through public works programs, an honest portrayal of historical events, and the restoration of trust and faith in a federal government. As such, Americans have always been a people of forgiveness.
Perhaps the coming decade will be brighter, and we will awake from this foggy nightmare of endless rioting, protest marches and needless killings. We must demand new normalcy. We must fulfill our human potential of placing reverence for what unites us with the wisdom to know what matters most in our hearts.
My friend texted again: “I’m sorry if I upset you. But I had to tell someone.” I visualized his turmoil and responded, “I’ll always be here, my friend.”