Proud to be an American

The Bicentennial of 1976—which I’m old enough to remember—came hard on the heels of Watergate, a presidential resignation, and a ­disgraceful exit from Vietnam punctuated with photographic low notes. Paul Simon’s “American Tune,” released in 1973 and set to a melody from Bach’s St. Matthews Passion, wistfully looked back at American promises unfulfilled.

But as July 4 drew near, patriotic enthusiasm woke up. CBS led the way with a Bicentennial Minute during every evening newscast from July 1974 through December 1976. Red, white, and blue decked storefronts and streetlamps as cities stocked up for mammoth fireworks displays. The Freedom Train carried a carefully temperature-sealed Declaration of Independence coast to coast. Operation Sail organized 16 international tall ships and dozens of other sailing vessels in a grand parade to New York Harbor. On July 4 Americans spilled out to the streets for noisy parades of school bands, patriotic floats, and Uncle Sams on stilts.

After the parade passed by, the dismal decade resumed, with more inflation, unemployment, “malaise,” and a hostage crisis yet to come. My husband and I were barely aware of all that as, nearly broke with a toddler and a baby, we drove out of the 1970s in an ailing Datsun hatchback, headed for Doug’s first white-collar job.

But cycles rise and fall, and soon it was “Morning in America.” By the end of the ’80s we had arrived at respectable middle class—two cars and a mortgage. One peaceful evening, as the family walked around our neighborhood of comfortable homes and (mostly) well-kept lawns, our daughter said, “It doesn’t get any better than this.”

Now our semiquincentennial is ahead (say that word fast five times), and our nation looks even more malaise-ridden than it did in 1976. Pride in America is at an all-time low, especially among the young. The Harvard Youth Poll reports that only 41% of 18- to 29-year-olds are proud of their country, while 29% are embarrassed. A more general Gallup poll finds 38% of Americans “extremely proud,” the lowest number since 2001, when Gallup began asking the question. Some blame the current administration, but the polls widely reported today were taken 2-3 years ago. Disenchantment with the American experiment has been a long time coming.

How about you? Can you stand up next to Lee Greenwood and sing, “I’m proud to be an American”? “Pride” may not be the right word. I’m an American by Providence, and though I consider it a blessing, what pride can there be in what I didn’t do?

Our Founding Fathers might have found it an odd question as well. Though conscious of altering world history (enough to put Ordo Novis Seclorum—roughly translated “A New Age Now Begins”—on the national seal), they were not certain about America’s future. “A republic, if you can keep it” was Benjamin Franklin’s ambiguous reply to the lady who asked him the result of the Constitutional Convention. If they could see us now, Jefferson and Adams wouldn’t recognize the nation they birthed in 1776, but they would be impressed we’ve made it to 250 years.

They were practical idealists. They aimed high but bowed to political expediency (like keeping the institution of slavery in place, though most of them opposed it). They hoped for modest prosperity and peace under every man’s vine and fig tree, and probably never dreamed they had unleashed a stampede of ambition and innovation that trampled many underfoot but lifted many more out of desperate poverty. On earth, it really doesn’t get better than that.

In Land of Hope, author and scholar Wilfred McClay offers a balanced history with necessary caveats. “Being a land of hope will also sometimes mean being a land of dashed hopes, of disappointment. A nation that professes high ideals makes itself vulnerable to searing criticism when it falls short of them.” But what can we expect? “All human beings are flawed, as is all human enterprise. To believe otherwise is to be naïve, and much of what passes for cynicism in our time is little more than naïveté in deep disguise.”

It may also be a disguise for ingratitude. The political scene doesn’t look encouraging right now, but by God’s grace we’re still here. “Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord,” but we can rightly love our homeland. She deserves it—even more, she needs it.