My way back to patriotism
Nine days after 9/11, I sat in the living room with my parents and sisters and watched as President Bush told the nation: “The enemy of America is not our many Muslim friends.”
Congress clapped, but the vital message was lost on many in my suburban Houston middle school and in our country.
A fervent jingoism seemed to set in, coupled with fierce vitriol against anyone seen as similar to the hijackers.
It led me to question what it meant to be patriotic, to be pro-American. At first, I believed the attacks could bring us together. I teared up at the images of the multiracial, multifaith group of first responders working at Ground Zero.
Soon, though, patriotism began to feel more like a stranglehold than a unifying embrace. It seemed suddenly unpatriotic to question the government’s leadership, new security measures, or war. It was seen as un-American to defend Islam or shield Arab American friends from verbal attacks. My parents grew up Black at the end of segregation, and taught us our history.
This round of hate wasn’t cast at us but I still felt the bigotry.
Our leaders seemed to exploit Americans’ fear to justify preemptive war and brutal torture abroad. I still loved my country, but I questioned the gap between professed values of inclusion in a nation so often hostile to the notion.
I found solace, eventually, in nuance. In 2004, a mentor suggested I read Frederick Douglass’ speech “What, to the Slave, is the Fourth of July?” In his words, delivered to a nation in the throes of slavery, I found a pathway for my own distressed patriotism: The ideals of America are laudable and beautiful, even if we often fail to measure up.
I learned this country’s long lineage of patriotic dissent: Douglass, Sojourner Truth, Fannie Lou Hamer, John Lewis.
One can protest police violence on Friday night and on Saturday, cram into a bar to cheer on the U.S. women’s soccer team. I have learned in the years since 9/11 how to truly love this country, and that one of the strongest testaments to my faith in America is to ask more of her.
Kenny Wiley, editorial writer