It's approaching the anniversary of our nation's declaration of independence, the one day out of the year that the entire population (more or less) feels obliged to wear red, white, and blue; to wave flags; to run about stuffing their faces with both food and drink while saying "God bless America." The time of year when those of us in the tourist industry in colonial cities gear up for the influx of patriotic visitors seeking something extra-special and extra-American. Good, clean, wholesome family fun.
The time of year when the site at which I work digs out a Union Jack and prepares to badmouth the historic Patriots. We tell the other side of the story. Which, I might note, is both interesting and horrid.
As children, we learn about "no taxation without representation," about the protests against British imperial rule, about the Liberty Tree and Paul Revere's famous Midnight Ride (except we don't learn about William Dawes or poor Samuel Prescott). We don't learn just how horrifying being tarred and feathered is (think second and third degree burns over your whole body); how the Patriots lied and stole their way to independence; about the lootings and burnings of Tory houses; about the murders and executions of Tory Loyalists; or about the massive financial and psychological hardships endured by those who believed themselves doing nothing more than being loyal to their King.
That's my job. I - and my staff - tell the other side of the story.
Most of the time, people think it's really interesting. Sometimes, you see them grow a little bit horrified at the thought of what their beloved Patriots (particularly the smuggling pirate John Hancock) were up to. You see them realizing that the British citizens forced out of the colonies were suffering, too.
An hour or a day later, of course, these lessons and memories fade, but for a little while, at least, they recognize that there are always two sides to every story. There are always victims, even - especially - in the greatest of victories. That nothing new can be born without bloodshed.
I have no problem with patriotism. What I have a problem with is blind patriotism. With beliefs that disallow the questioning of the dominant ideological paradigm simply because it is dominant. With the automatic vilification of the Other Side. Love your country, but don't hate all others. Don't create a cookie-cutter image of the "American" and antagonize everything that doesn't fit into it.
Our country was born out of diversity, forged in the heat of a war of rebellion, and tempered by blood and gunpowder. We as a nation came about precisely because we were able to reject the strictures we found suffocating. Our founding fathers did not make this nation so that it might stifle itself under dictates of what we must think or speak or feel.
Love your country. But love it as a parent - firmly, sternly, and with the knowledge that when it needs correction, it is better to correct than to allow it to become uncontrollable. Love it as an audience - applaud its good performances, but when it fails, boo it from the stage. Love it as a child - recognize that it has brought us this far, but that we cannot forever remain under its strict control; respect it, but recognize that change, that evolution, is necessary to life; remember that it has loved and nurtured us, but know that it has come to need our care.
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