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Being An American
By Matt Margolis | July 4, 2003
I was asked a relatively simple question by my friend Melissa the other day.
The 4th of July often seems to me to be a rather pale fake celebration of our country. Let’s face it, eating too much fatty food, watching some lights explode, and riding some creaky nostalgic carnival rides is not exactly a tribute to the sacrifices people have made to establish & improve our country. It can be a fun holiday, espescially when you are a child. But, in light of recent events, I feel something more substantial is called for.
So that’s where you come in. I’m curious as to what it means to you to be an American. I know that’s a label you’ve really only felt since 9/11 which is probably a common thing with many people in this country.
I’m wondering how you define America & being an American. What characteristics are you proud of? What in our past, present, and future brings you hope? And, conversely, what about America isn’t good?
Don’t feel that you have to address the specific questions posed in the previous paragraph. You need only address my main query which is - what does being an American mean to you? What does our nation, as a whole, mean to you?
I hope everyone reading this blog entry will take some time to answer this question themselves in this blog. I don’t want to find comments arguing the political undertones of my answer. This is not an issue where debate is necessary or called for. All antagonistic posts will be deleted without hestitation. I only want to hear your thoughts on the questions I’m about to answer, and your feelings regarding what I’ve written.
As far as my answer goes, after lots of thought, lots of writing, I came up with the following answer:
I believe that today, Americans do not celebrate Independence Day. We celebrate the 4th of July – yet another three-day weekend. Is there something wrong with that? Maybe not, we’re 200+ years beyond our Declaration of Independence, and naturally we take it for granted.
Even I did. Until September 11, 2001.
The first real Independence I’ve ever witness in this country came on September 12, 2001. The flags came out. There was no script telling people how to feel. So people decided to feel like Americans. Perhaps that was the natural response to our country being attacked – for basically no other reason than the freedoms we enjoy and still to this day take for granted.
The first time I experienced a true Independence Day was back in 1998. It wasn’t on the 4th of July. It wasn’t even in America. It was April 29, 1998 in the streets of Tiberias in Israel.
Israel does not take their independence for granted. They are in a constant struggle to maintain that independence and identity – so they never forget what it means. Every Jew in Israel knows someone who has died for their country. That’s their life. They are constantly reminded about the cost of freedom and the struggle it takes to hold on to that freedom. They have to live their lives one day at a time. As teenagers, they don’t talk about going to college when they’re 18, they talk about going into the army, and then college. These are people who want to defend their country from the evils that would like to destroy them.
That night in Tiberias I celebrated Israel’s 50th year of independence. I celebrated with Americans, and Israelis. Only 24 hours earlier, we were observing Israel’s Memorial Day.
That’s right, in Israel; Memorial Day is followed by Independence Day. A day of somber remembrance of those who died to protect their home and people is followed by a day of celebration of the independence of the country whom their loved ones died to protect.
No one went shopping to take advantage of holiday sales at the malls. That’s not what it is like in Israel.
We didn’t go to cookout at someone’s house and eat fatty food .
That night in Tiberias, we actually celebrated 50 years of Israeli Independence. We danced in the street. We sang songs of joy and celebration. We got silly and acted like children. We celebrated freedom.
Celebrations like that are not made in America. Not today. Not anymore.
Something else happened that night I need to share.
A year before, I participated in a summer leadership conference with my youth group. Israeli teenagers participated at the conference as well, and I befriended many of them. One of them, I ran into that night in Tiberias.
His name was Raz Mintz. We’d lost touch shortly after that summer we met, but we recognized each other right away.
Raz Mintz celebrated his country’s independence with us that night. He later went on to defend his country.
He would also die for country.
He was killed November 2, 2001.
He is the first person I’ve ever met who died for their country.
Things like that change how you look at the world, and how you look at your own country.
September 11, 2001 was the day many Americans realized they were Americans. It was the day I realized what it meant to be an American.
Israelis fight on a daily basis to protect their country from an evil force that hates them. For America, being attacked by people who hate us, helped us realize what we had – even if only for a brief period of time.
The truth of the matter is, we don’t appreciate what America is, because we don’t know anything different. We’re accustomed to freedom; we don’t understand that for some, freedom is a luxury. Iraqis today are now beginning to experience that luxury, but we can’t understand what they’re going through.
America used to be the land of opportunity. America was the place that people could go to and find success despite their limitations. Today, America is the place people go so they don’t have to overcome their limitations.
America used to be a country people came to so they could become Americans. Today, it is the country people come to and take advantage of freedom at the expense of Americans.
The reason why this happens is because our nation is so great. It also happens because has many faults. Nevertheless, our faults help contribute to our greatness.
We wouldn’t be attracting so many people to come here if we weren’t so great.
People wouldn’t risk their lives to come to America if we weren’t so great.
Sadly enough, while this hasn’t changed, the times have changed. People still come here for those reasons, but the attitude has changed. People feel America owes something to them to make their lives better.
But that’s not what America is about. It’s about you making your life better if wish to so.
That’s what it means to be an American. For the most part, we control our own destinies. We can choose to work our way to success, or be coddled into dependency of the government, which has taken the role as The Provider in recent history.
It’s about freedom. It’s about choice.
People died to give us that freedom. We can’t forget that.
Unfortunately the further through history we go, the more disconnected from that fact we get.
It’s sad sometimes to think that dying for your country has gone from being something honorable to something that can’t handle. People cringe at the thought of sacrifice. People whimper at the onset of a nosebleed after being punched by the enemy. People point fingers at the President for asking our soldiers to fight for our national security, and for the extermination of evil.
We forget about our enemies. We forget how real they are. We lose sight of the fact that America’s greatness is constantly threatened – and people question our need to protect it.
Israel is constantly protecting itself, and frontlines of their constant battle to maintain their independence is in their streets, their backyards, their synagogues, their markets, their homes. They never forget how precious their independence is.
America has.
September 11th reminded us – but we quickly forget.
So we’ll continue with the cookouts, the sales, and the commercialism of The 4th of July. I admit, this 4th of July, I’ll be in Connecticut at a party celebrating the commercialized holiday with college friends.
I’ve experienced two real Independence Days in my life. Once in Israel, and once in America. Two very different but very real experiences.
But that’s okay. There will be other times. Hopefully for all us.
For now, we’re content enjoying the freedoms that we get in America without having to be constantly reminded just how precious they are. Someday we’ll all remember, and we’ll wave our flags again.
Topics: The Right Idea |
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July 3rd, 2003 at 11:00 pm
Matt,
That was so damn good. I’m at a loss for words. Incredible. You can bet I’ll post my own version at my site, as well as a link to your post. That was so damn good I can’t even express it. Inspirational.
I’ve told you once, and I’m gonna tell you this again, you’re headed for blog stardom. This is quality, Matt.
July 3rd, 2003 at 11:16 pm
Having grown up with the military my entire life, my version of “America” is not what many live each day, but the “Military America” I’ve spent my whole life with. And this piece, originally posted on my blog back in March with the onset of the war sums up what an American, or what America for that matter means to me:
The average age of the military man is 19 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country.
He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father’s; but he has never collected unemployment either. He’s a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away.
He listens to rock and roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and 155mm Howitzers. He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk. He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark.
He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must. He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional. He can march until he is told to stop or stop until he is told to march. He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity. He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts. If you’re thirsty, he’ll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food. He’ll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.
He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands. He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job. He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and still find ironic humor in it all. He has seen more suffering and death then he should have in his short lifetime. He has stood atop mountains of dead bodies, and helped to create them. He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed. He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to ’square-away’ those around him who haven’t bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful. Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom.
Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years. He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding. Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood. - Anonymous
July 4th, 2003 at 12:45 am
As a second generation American, whos grandfather and brothers emigrated here in 1912, from Lebanon, I can proudly say that July 4th has always, even pre-9/11, been a celebration of our treasured life in America. My brother Charles was Policy Director and Education Secretary to Tom Ridge When he was Gov. of PA, my cousin John is a famous pollster, his brother Jim is well known as the Director of the Arab American Institute. All of my cousins work as professionals. Where else but in America could we have rose so far, so fast. I love America for the promise it offers me. My wife and I are soon to start a family, and I’m going to be a stay at home dad. I’m on the edge of my seat with exitement. America is the greatest country in the world, and every day I thank God I live here. That’s what I’ll be celebrating tomorrow, not the 3 day weekend or the stupid fireworks. Tomorrow, I’ll be thanking the Lord that my grandfather left his one horse town in Lebanon, and scratched his way to Ellis Island, to marry my grandmother, give birth to my dad, and make it possible for me to attain the American dream.
July 4th, 2003 at 1:11 pm
I came to America on account of being with my family: my mother came here to be with my sister, her daughter, and she in turn to be with the man she chose to marry. Today we’ll be celebrating the fact that we are free people who enjoy the social mobility that comes with being American. Today we’ll be celebrating the fact that we have built a home for ourselves (extended-family as it may be) and that we didn’t ask the government for anything but the privilege of being a unified family unit.
Please understand that there are still people who wish to go here and make an honest living, the meritocratic people who know what they have to do to “make it” in America, and are proud of becoming and being Americans. We’re proud of it, and I for one am passionate about it, despite the time-consuming citizenship requirements. I’m an American now, even though the law may say otherwise. Myself, and those like me, are the immigrants you should be proud of Matt. I’m not saying you ignore those that are a pox to our names, but do celebrate with us, Matt.
July 5th, 2003 at 6:40 pm
My grandmother came with her famliy from French Canada. My husband came to the United States at the age of about 3 with his parents. Most of my father’s brothers served in the armed forces, as did my husband and his brothers.
Our extended family is a proud, American family, regardless of where they were born or how long they have lived here. Sure, sometimes we grouse and complain, but more like disgrutled children when they don’t get their way and not the sort of self-loathing we see from those who profess there shame in their own citizenship.
I celebrate my country every day. I find joy in the company of others who do, as well. I celebrate the lives of those who freely gave their lives for our country and our way of life. I do not call them martyrs, nor do I believe that they would consider themselves martyrs. Only strong, brave indidviduals who did what they had to do and paid with their lives.
Thanks for your forum, Matt.
July 8th, 2003 at 9:09 pm
For me, being an American means finishing school with at least a 3.5 GPA, going to college, and spend my life searching for happiness in whatever form I may find, be it a uniform that I will wear proudly, or a family I will smile at, or maybe just a really good piece of chicken.
Elena
July 8th, 2003 at 11:11 pm
Fried Chickin. Amen. God bless the colonel.
July 11th, 2003 at 3:58 pm
independence day in Israel…. nothing like it in the world.
July 11th, 2003 at 11:24 pm
I bet that would be really neat to see.
July 18th, 2003 at 1:06 pm
FYI to those who care, Raz Mintz, the Israeli matt mentioned who got killed by terrorist towelheads, joined the Israeli Army for three reasons, one, the fact that he is obliged to as a citizen, two, because he loved Israel, and three, because the person he looked up to the most, his older brother, was a proud member of the Israeli Army. Makes you think about the soliders of the US Army…over in Iraq, who are complaining they want to go home.
http://www.mfa.gov.il/mfa/go.asp?MFAH0ko60
July 23rd, 2003 at 12:01 pm
As sad is his death is, he died doing what he wanted to do. I’m sure he served his country well.
November 25th, 2004 at 6:29 pm
HELLO…. i was just searchin on wat bein an american means.. and i came across ya lil site thing.. and i think this will help me out a lot and has me re-thinkin a lot of things… THANKS