- Share This Post
- Pin It
- 0
-
Sparkle (0)
I've spent hours watching the headlines pour forth from Iran, video of young, innocent Iranians being slaughtered in the street for challenging the state, photographs of brave Iranian women clutching at rocks, the only weapons they have besides their fists, as they stand toe-to-toe with a hostile militia.
I see this and I am overcome with an immense feeling of patriotism for my own country.
It may seem like an interesting dichotomy, but it's not. I recognize the liberty of a people before I recognize the sovereignty of their country. It may seem like nationalism but it's not: nationalism only pretends regard for liberty as a way to distract from encroaching control; patriotism is driven by liberty and the desire for the citizenry's self-sufficiency.
I consider myself patriotic and a patriot.
My father, my grandfathers, my indigenous ancestors have fertilized this soil with their blood. My indigenous ancestors nurtured this land before the arrivals at Plymouth; in an example of bad government my great great etc. grandmother and many other ancestors died on the Trail of Tears because for a moment, our leader lost sight of America's purpose. My grandmothers and great-grandmothers took off their aprons, rolled up their shirt sleeves, and sauntered into the factories when our boys - their husbands, my great-grandfathers and grandfathers - went to war. They were the real, the original Rosie the Riveters. We have photographs of one of them, dressed in overalls, her hair in a kerchief, standing in a factory with a smudge of dirt on her chin. She looked so proud. They held down the fort and kept this country working and I'm moved to goosebumps when I think of that female patriotism.
My grandfather served as a gunner on the USS Alabama and the sound from the massive guns he shot, sometimes 24-7 in battle, shredded his ear drums. The radiation to which he was exposed when he witnessed the blast of one of the atomic bombs later contributed greatly to the cancer which slowly consumed his life in his elderly years.
My great-grandfather was one of the original dogfaces on the beach at Normandy. The lowest of the low in rank, they saw some of the most brutal action and took the heaviest hit. He fought his way into France and was there when the American tanks rolled in and the people cried with relief because they knew that their hell was over.
My family members fought to protect their family, their countrymen, not the state. I've picked up their mantle with my activism, a match to the roaring bonfire of their contributions. They have given me an example of what patriotism is and what it isn't.
Patriotism, to me, is the love of one's people and one's country. It's the vigilant maintenance of liberty, it's about speaking up against any move by government to pollute that for which our country stands or infringe upon the liberty we enjoy. It's about being prepared to serve your country in some capacity, if needed. To go further: for me, patriotism is about defending your country for its people, not its government.
My children were taught the Pledge of Allegiance and recognize that it's about standing together as one, "one nation, under God, indivisible," one nation - a nation is its people - indivisible.
This Fourth of July I will fly my American flag in honor of every man and woman in my family and amongst my acquaintance (I am so privileged to know so many who have served or are serving).When we say grace 'round the grill we'll extend the part in our prayer for all those leading our country and for our fellow Americans.
Visit some military family blogs and show your support and respect.
