We went to a neighborhood Independence Day party last night. Everyone decked in their best red-white-and-blue attire. There were vanilla cream puffs and strawberries, summer cocktails and free beer - all the American staples of a good summer bbq.
We even had a DJ and people danced. It was great fun.
It was supposed to be great fun, that is, until you started to think about it for a minute. I had been thinking about it for days, weeks in fact. I had been thinking about how this year, in particular, I don’t have anything to celebrate on July 4th. What am I to celebrate? The loss of freedom that I feel every day? The corner of the world that I am in that is shrinking as I see it?
Waking up this weekend, every day, I have been opening the news with fear: I know the weekend is full of parades and community events. I am opening the news thinking “I wonder how many mass shootings we’ll have today?” That’s no reason for celebration.
The DJ opened his set with the “God Bless America” song. The lyrics went something like this and some people swayed and sang along: “I’m proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free” - and all I could do was to look around and say “Well, I am an American and I don’t feel all that free. Our black neighbors don’t feel free. Our gay friends don’t feel so free. What is this day for and who is supposed to celebrate it, exactly? White straight men, maybe, even those ...?” It’s harder and harder to drink to that ...
Earlier in the year I bought a cute summer top that is more or less patriotic - especially for this neighborhood party last night. But I could not bring myself to wear it. I could not let my eyes bleed with donning the colors Americans feel so much pride about on my body. At least I have that freedom for now, to wear what I want and the patriotic attire was not mandatory.
I know things are so much worse elsewhere, but it’s still gut-wrenching to witness the one country in the world that consistently has sent their men and women to die protecting other countries’ democracies (or so we’re told) botch a little bit of its own democracy. Every. Single. Day. I thought it was painful to be born in bondage and un-freedom, in the middle of the Romanian communist era. But it is infinitely more heart-breaking and painful to lose the freedom you had. The freedom you moved hell and high water to get and protect (by voting if nothing else). The freedom you’ve built your life on.
This year, I cannot “celebrate” in the proper sense of the word. It’ll be a low key, just-the-two of us kind of celebration on this day, outside of that neighborhood party which we joined to say hi to friends. The patriotic napkins laying on my table are just for those people like me, who dreamed about what this country could be. For those people who came here full of hope, hoping, banking on freedom and who feel hurt and cheated and wronged. Also for the people who are born here and who are wronged by this politocracy without end in sight. Make no mistake: there is no democracy (the word “demos” means “people” in Greek) in America. What rules this country is the almighty dollar and the people in high-places on the political ladder. I thought, like millions of others, that “we the people” can make a country. But alas we have been lied to ...
This year, I am wearing black for Independence Day and thinking of Mr. Johnny Cash. If I could sing along to a song, I’d sing this one, with a small change:
“I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town
I wear it for the prisoner who is long paid for his crime
But is there because he's a victim of the times
Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back
Up front there ought to be a Girl In Black
And I wear it for the thousands who have died
Believin' that the Lord was on their side
I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died
Believin' that we all were on their side
Well, there's things that never will be right I know
And things need changin' everywhere you go
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right
You'll never see me wear a suit of white
Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day
And tell the world that everything's okay
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back
'Til things are brighter, I'm the Girl In Black”
Someone smarter than me said it best: there is quite “a distance between the American Dream and the American reality ...” nowadays. (Bruce Springsteen while speaking to Barack Obama).
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