Fireworks & Frustration

Why My Love for America Isn’t Blind & Yours Shouldn’t Be Either

“Our job is to try to save the world, and failing that, we can at least try to not be part of the problem.”—Ryan Holiday

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I love the idea of America.

The words penned by imperfect men, in imperfect times.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

The words were powerful, even prophetic.

They offered a vision of what could be. A nation where liberty and justice are not the privilege of a few but the birthright of all.

Sounds good, right?

But I find myself, year after year, in the same place as a frustrated idealist. Caught between the beauty of our founding words and the brokenness of our lived experience.

From the beginning, America's founding documents brought a radical hope into the world. The Declaration of Independence declared independence from tyranny and oppression, and then the Constitution sought to establish a framework for a republic governed by laws, not kings.

It’s crazy how they’ve inspired nations to ignite movements challenging oppressive forms of government around the world while also existing alongside and in contradiction to domestic realities like slavery, disenfranchisement, and systemic injustice.

How can a nation that promised liberty build its wealth on the backs of the enslaved?

How can a land that declared equality withhold it from women, Indigenous people, immigrants, and countless others?

How can a country that claims freedom of conscience persecute dissent?

Although I don’t have the answers, I do know these contradictions don't negate the ideals; instead, they remind us that we have yet to reach them, which is where my frustration as an idealist grows and is often misunderstood on both sides.

I am not alone.

Frustrated idealists are prophets to the nation, and we come in various forms: activists, artists, creatives, podcasters, preachers, teachers, writers, etc.

We don't hate America, and that makes some people mad.

At the same time, we are not blind to, nor silent about, the gap between what America says and what she does, and that makes some people mad.

However, I hope, especially on a day like today, that we can create space for both, which is why I refuse to condemn anyone celebrating today.

Nevertheless, I would like to challenge us all to adopt a different kind of patriotism.

The kind that is honest, sober, and hopeful.

The kind that demands alignment between word and deed.

The kind that celebrates progress while insisting there's more to be done.

Because ideals need more than celebration, they need commitment.

So this year, I won't settle for cynicism or cheap pride.

I'll remain a frustrated idealist.

I'll pray for America and work for justice.

And I'll keep praying and working until the promise is realized:

That all people are created equal.

That liberty and justice belong to everyone.

That love of country means loving it enough to want more for it and from it.

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