Reflections on Being American: November 6, 2024
06 Nov 2024
I’m sitting at my desk on Wednesday morning, November 6, 2024, sipping coffee and reflecting on what it truly means to be American. And honestly, I’m having a hard time figuring out if I fit in.
I’m not so naive to believe that all, or even most, politicians are selfless champions of the public good. More often, it seems like personal agendas take precedence over the well-being of the people. But here we are, with Donald Trump as our president once again. When the country’s direction seems out of step with my own values, it feels isolating—almost as if the 'home' I know is shifting into something unrecognizable. Seeing someone in a role as symbolic as the presidency who doesn’t reflect any of the values I hold feels like a rejection of those values on a grand scale.
When a leader’s values feel so out of sync with my own, it’s not just disappointing—it’s unsettling. Leaders have a powerful influence, not just through policy but through the behavior they model. When a leader’s values seem questionable, even dismissive of respect or empathy, it sets off a trickle-down effect. The message that sends to their supporters can be frightening. It almost gives permission for certain attitudes and actions that, under other circumstances, might be seen as unacceptable. It's more than just policy, it about identity.
I’m not so naive to believe that all, or even most, politicians are selfless champions of the public good. More often, it seems like personal agendas take precedence over the well-being of the people. But here we are, with Donald Trump as our president once again. When the country’s direction seems out of step with my own values, it feels isolating—almost as if the 'home' I know is shifting into something unrecognizable. Seeing someone in a role as symbolic as the presidency who doesn’t reflect any of the values I hold feels like a rejection of those values on a grand scale.
When a leader’s values feel so out of sync with my own, it’s not just disappointing—it’s unsettling. Leaders have a powerful influence, not just through policy but through the behavior they model. When a leader’s values seem questionable, even dismissive of respect or empathy, it sets off a trickle-down effect. The message that sends to their supporters can be frightening. It almost gives permission for certain attitudes and actions that, under other circumstances, might be seen as unacceptable. It's more than just policy, it about identity.
I’m not perfect, shocker... I don’t have all the answers, and I know I have my own flaws, immense at times. But maybe that’s why I find it so troubling. If I can recognize these limitations in myself, I feel that those in positions of power—especially leaders—should strive to set a better example. It’s not about expecting perfection. It’s about modeling values that encourage growth, understanding, and respect, even when it’s challenging.As I watch this unfold, it’s like witnessing a shift in what’s considered 'acceptable.' When a leader openly mocks adversaries or dismisses entire groups of people, those who support them may feel justified in echoing those behaviors, and the tone of our communities shifts. Over time, this can create a culture where hostility, division, and a lack of respect for others are seen as justifiable—even patriotic. And that, more than any single policy or decision, makes me question if my values will ever align with the direction this country seems to be heading.
Then there’s the phrase people like to throw around: 'Love it or leave it.' But is love really the right word? Honestly, I’m not sure I 'love' my country in the way that word suggests. Love implies a kind of blind loyalty that doesn’t leave much room for criticism or questioning, but relationships are rarely that simple. Like any relationship, my connection to America is complicated. This is where my family lives, where I’ve built my life, where my roots are. Leaving isn’t an easy option, and staying doesn’t mean everything here aligns with who I am.
Life is rarely neat, and nothing ever quite goes as planned. It’s messy, it’s complicated, and maybe that’s how it is with countries too. I don’t know if my version of America will ever be the dominant one, or if people like me—who value empathy, progress, and inclusion—will ever find ourselves fully reflected in this nation. But despite all the frustrations, it’s hard to just give up on something that feels like it should be part of who I am.
Then there’s the phrase people like to throw around: 'Love it or leave it.' But is love really the right word? Honestly, I’m not sure I 'love' my country in the way that word suggests. Love implies a kind of blind loyalty that doesn’t leave much room for criticism or questioning, but relationships are rarely that simple. Like any relationship, my connection to America is complicated. This is where my family lives, where I’ve built my life, where my roots are. Leaving isn’t an easy option, and staying doesn’t mean everything here aligns with who I am.
Life is rarely neat, and nothing ever quite goes as planned. It’s messy, it’s complicated, and maybe that’s how it is with countries too. I don’t know if my version of America will ever be the dominant one, or if people like me—who value empathy, progress, and inclusion—will ever find ourselves fully reflected in this nation. But despite all the frustrations, it’s hard to just give up on something that feels like it should be part of who I am.
Maybe this is less about love and more about a hope for something better, a belief that there’s still room to build and change, even if the road doesn't seem clear. But at the same time, I wonder—how long can I feel like a stranger in my own country before that hope starts to fade?