Op-Ed: Waking Up to America

by Henrietta Pew 

I am watching NBC News, at 4:46 pm on January 6, 2021, as the Capitol of our United States of America is being taken under siege by pro-Trump extremists. They are breaking down doors, shattering glass, roaming hallways, looting, and rummaging through the documents of the Senate and House. They interrupted Congress’ counting of electoral votes, a process I’ve been told is a hallmark of our democracy. They’ve demanded Donald Trump, the man who lost the election, remain in the office of the President. They refuse to raise a white flag--as it would be a confirmation of their loss, a symbol of their acquiescence, a simulacrum of their weakness. At this point, I have not seen a single one of these terrorists being arrested (a racist irony, as Capitol police violently confronted peaceful Black Lives Matter protesters just a few months ago).

I am an American. But for some reason I (and possibly we) can’t shake the feeling that the entire concept, the whole idea of America, hinges on disillusionment and idealism. 

I first became politically aware, I mean really, actually, aware of what was going on in the world a couple years ago. This means I became conscious during Trump’s presidency--I became responsive to the daunting, amorphous concept of politics during a time our country was experiencing a notable, unprecedented (a term I hear so often it seems to defy its very definition) evolution. I’m constantly being told by the adults in my life, “This hasn’t happened before. This isn’t normal.” I awoke to American while examining the discrepancies between my comfortably liberal, progressive New York bubble, in stark contrast to the president of our country arguing shamelessly to build a wall between us and our neighbors. Among other things.  

I’d heard about the American dream and our purportedly glorious founding fathers, the Constitution and our impressive victory in the Revolutionary War, but did these romantic stories align with reality? I was unsure. I identified with James Baldwin, when he said: “The paradox of education is precisely this--that as one begins to become conscious one begins to examine the society in which he is being educated.” It’s a fact that has presented itself time and time again--I am examining this American society of which I am unavoidably part and becoming skeptical of the once-accepted truths around me. 

I sometimes shudder at overt expressions of nationalistic pride. Perhaps it is shameful to be disheartened at the bleak reality of my country, but perhaps it’s not--the bleak reality is that there are currently a couple thousand people storming the halls of the US Capitol building. However, quoting James Baldwin once again: “I love America more than any other country in this world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.” So, perhaps I am critical because I really do love America. Maybe I’m passionate because I do care about this country, not simply because I am angry at it. Maybe I don’t respect some elected officials and figures that represent America, but does that mean I can’t love America as a collective? Kamala Harris said, “To love our country is to fight for the ideals of our country.” If I am resolute in my agreement with Baldwin and Harris, then my convictions are a manifestation of my love. 

What does it mean, however, to love America? Does it mean I love the people of America, or the leaders of America, or even the actual, inanimate place we call America? How can I know if I love America if I don’t even understand what America is? I often view American flags as a manifestation of jingoism and hyper-nationalism. But again, is this because I have awoken to America during the Trump presidency? Does my aversion to the symbol of America express legitimate perception and feelings about America itself? As I learn about the often sick, deplorable history of our country, and I notice many aspects of our past in today’s calamitous present, it feels difficult to be proud of America. 

But maybe I’m just using confirmation bias or am simply disregarding the good of America. (This would be an admittance there is good in America--a good I perhaps sometimes choose to ignore.) Admittedly, as I’ve been following our nation’s political system, I have felt invigorated and excited by democracy. I spent my summer protesting, cheered and danced in the street when Biden won, volunteered for the Ossoff campaign, and just last night stayed up late to see if Georgia would turn the Senate. So, maybe my excitement is a testament to my hope that America can improve. I remain pragmatically hopeful--attempting to cushion the devastation when things go, perhaps inevitably, wrong with this country. 

Well, it is time to go back out there and watch the news--to further examine (and critique) this unique American dynamic.