Tag: America

I’m still processing the intense feelings from yesterday’s inauguration. Several times during the day I found myself spontaneously thinking of lines from patriotic songs, like:
This is my country! Land of my birth!
or:
God bless America, land that I love…

And it got me to thinking about being a “patriot” — a concept that has been whittled down to such a narrow and limited definition that I’m almost afraid to identify as a patriot. (Which is especially galling because at Milpitas High School we were the Patriots; the image above is our mascot).

But, gosh darn it, I am patriotic. I do love my country. No, I don’t automatically believe America is always the best in every way, but I love it no matter what. And what I’ve learned in recent days is that I don’t really have a choice.

It’s like comparing mothers. You can appreciate that other people’s mothers are wonderful, but no one can replace your own mother in your heart. You might get mad at her or disagree with her, but you don’t stop loving her.

Well, that’s how I felt on Wednesday. I’ve been having some issues with my country but gosh darn it, it is my country and I love it.

There’s one more patriotic song that came to my mind. This is from another album of my Dad’s that I loved to listen to as a child. The title is, “The House I Live In,” but I love how the song so eloquently and lovingly answers the question, “What is America to me?” I especially resonate with the ending phrase: “But especially the people, that’s America to me.” That’s my truth as well.

The House I Live In (1947)
What is America to me?
A name, a map or a flag I see,
A certain word, “Democracy”,
What is America to me?

The house I live in,
The friends that I have found,
The folks beyond the railroad
and the people all around,
The worker and the farmer,
the sailor on the sea,
The men who built this country,
that’s America to me.

The words of old Abe Lincoln,
of Jefferson and Paine,
of Washington and Jackson
and the tasks that still remain.
The little bridge at Concord, 
where Freedom’s Fight began,
of Gettysburg and Midway 
and the story of Bataan.

The house I live in,
my neighbors White and Black,
the people who just came here 
or from generations back,
the town hall and the soapbox,
the torch of Liberty,
a home for all God’s children,
that’s America to me.

The house I live in,
the goodness everywhere,
a land of wealth and beauty 
with enough for all to share.
A house that we call “Freedom”,
the home of Liberty,
but especially the people,
that’s America to me.

But especially the people–
that’s the true America…