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Fifteen years ago, on the banks of the Tidal Basin, with the Washington Monument in the background, I took an Oath of Reenlistment in the United States Army. I raised my right hand and said the following:
I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.
I was 22 years old, and I had just completed my initial term of enlistment. It had been a tough three years, full of challenges and growth and settling into the essential truth that being an engaged citizen, let alone a soldier, was never meant to be easy.
The previous evening, I sat in my friend’s car while he made the case that maybe this wasn’t the best decision. He pointed out that I was making a commitment that would mean postponing other dreams in deference to a way of life that had been quite difficult at times. He wondered aloud if I shouldn’t go in a different direction.
That’s what it means to be a good friend: offering tough nuance that needs to be heard and considered. I’m still grateful for his candor. At the time, I didn’t have the right words to explain my decision beyond that it just felt like the right thing to do.
There are substantial reasons to be cynical in this moment of our nation’s history. We are on the precipice of an uncertain chapter, and when I look around, I see a great deal of pain and skepticism and fear from reasonable adults.
I acknowledge all of that, and I would never pretend it isn’t warranted. We live in a country built on a past that has often been horrific, exclusionary, and antithetical to our stated values.
But respectfully, I love America so much. I love this country. In fact, I don’t think I have ever loved this country more than I do now. Perhaps my affection has achieved greater clarity in recent years because I have been forced to reconcile all that we stand to lose after all that has been gained.
I believe the United States is a great country not because of the flag or an oath or the endless pageantry. Our greatness isn’t found in monuments and statues. It’s not found in anthems and pledges. These are all rewards for the hard part: the active citizenry that refuses to yield to our lesser selves.
I love America because our greatness it is easily found in the 18 year-olds who stormed Normandy, wading into almost certain death, knowing deep down they may never live to see another day on American soil, all to free the world from fascist tyranny.
Our greatness is found in the women who marched down Pennsylvania Avenue more than a hundred years ago, spat upon, beaten with nightsticks, hospitalized, only to get up the next day and keep marching, all to achieve rights they knew they may never see in their lifetimes.
Our greatness is found in the enslaved and their descendants, who overcame the most egregious atrocities, marched against the popular opinions of white supremacy, were murdered and scorned for a courage that should have been unnecessary, and demanded equality from a nation that so often has chosen the easier wrong over the harder right.
Our greatness is found in those who risked everything just for the right to love who they love and live in their authenticity, and where would I, as a proud trans woman, be right now without their sacrifices?
Our greatness is found in the innumerable undocumented people, our fellow citizens in spirit, who endured a lethal trek that took so many others, against the vicious racism of lazy hypocrites, just for the opportunity for a better life for their children, and have made our country better in return.
Countless people have literally died and risked death just to live in this country.
Think about that.
Our greatness is found in the citizen who speaks truth to power, often alone, only to be greeted with hearts and ears that turn away at the slightest discomfort and bit of cognitive dissonance and yet, still that citizen says what needs to be said.
Our greatness is found in public school teachers who are overworked and underpaid and under-resourced and still come to their schools, every day, to ensure every child gets a chance at opportunity.
Our greatness is found in the women and men of the labor rights movement, who have relentlessly pushed our nation to recognize the essential contributions of working class families and demand greater equity for them.
Our greatness is found in social workers and community organizers and engaged clergy and medical professionals and public servants of all stripes who have never given up on those around them, even at great personal cost.
Our greatness is found in any given American who openly criticizes America and dares to ask if we can be better.
I grew up in trailer parks in Central Texas. Neither of my parents attended college. I lived on food stamps and the free lunch program and the kindness of strangers, and I am here right now because of numerous people who held the essential belief that America means no one gets left behind.
These are the reasons I love America. These are the reasons I stop what I’m doing when the National Anthem plays and stand silently in respect, and these are the reasons I recognize the patriotism of someone who does not.
I love this country because it’s given so much to me, but moreover, I love this country because of all I’ve received from so many who came before, knowing I would the enjoy the liberation they would never experience.
This is an incredibly tough moment for our nation, and I would never dare to tell another American how to feel about that. It’s not my place. People should have the space to feel what they feel right now, and all of us should respect that.
But given all this, speaking only for myself, how could I not love America? How could I not love this country?
I have pride in America because over the course of my life, it is has often been one of the few things that kept me going. Imperfect and struggling though it may be, I have to believe in America because I have already thrown my whole self into the idea of it.
And I do believe in us. I still believe we can be something grand and hopeful and proud and inclusive, if only we’ll keep it up long enough to finally make the choices required to that end.
I hope all of you will enjoy time with your family and friends today, and more than that, I hope you’ll take time to remind your kids of the country we could have someday.
Happy Fourth to you and yours.
How Could I Ever Not Love America?