I have just crossed the Mississippi, heading west into Iowa this third of July. Night is gently falling here, and it is gorgeous, the setting sun, the seemingly endless rolling fields. This is America, the heartland, and it is gorgeous. I’m listening to the hopeful, plaintive sounds of The Rising. My eye is drawn toward the occasional distant makeshift fireworks display, the light splaying and bouncing over, dare I say, amber waves. I feel so blessed, so privileged, so….American.
I pull over just beyond the border at a badly needed rest stop. Well-relieved, I head back to my car, and I freeze. Parked to my right is a gleaming behemoth of a Chevy Silverado sedan pickup, dwarfing my dusty VW. Loudly, proudly displayed in the back window of the Chevy is a decal of the flag. The American flag. And somehow, even this night, I suddenly feel uneasy. On the other side of my car rests the hull of a well-worn Jeep Wagoneer, it’s rear, doors and quarter panels littered with bumper stickers: “Education, Not Warâ€, “End THIS Warâ€, “01-20-09â€, “Bush-Wacked!â€, “IMPEACH!â€
And here I sit, on the eve of the birth of an undeniably great nation, my reverie drained. And I’m sad now, almost teary. Grieving? Yes, grieving seems right. Grieving the loss of some ideal America I’ve held affixed in my mind for decades, since childhood. That America is filled with open, loving people, so lucky to live in the midst of such peace and prosperity, striving to share it all with the world. That’s what I’m grieving. That’s my America.
But as I glance, quite literally, from the left to the right at these two disparate vehicles, I see with clarity how divided we are. Republican, Democrat, liberal, conservative, each label splicing, dicing, dividing us further. Each label rendering us less available to each other and certainly, as a nation, less available to the world.
I find myself equally alarmed by both cars, both mindsets. The Jeep seems, well, angry, espousing open-mindedness, but emitting only hatred. The Chevy truck displays a flag, simply a flag, and I am somehow crestfallen. I sense a “Screw the world, love it or leave it†faux patriot mentality. Since when does our flag imply that?
So there’s the theme now, in nearly every corner of our American lives, from campaign rhetoric to headlines to daily discourse: Unavailable America.
My hope for my country tonight is renewed open-mindedness, love for one another, an eagerness to share ideas and brainstorm together, to trust and respect each others’ ideas and ideals – an Available America.
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