As An American
As an American, I’m confused as to exactly what I’m supposed to be.
Reading Cather’s O Pioneers! I’m getting a good sense of what being American used to entail. A connection to the land you owned. The opportunity provided by the youth of the land as well as the youth of the nation. Being independent and self sustainable. Being good to others. This is all back in the 1900s, mind you.
And now? What is left over? We have reached the west, we have mined the mountains, there are no vistas that have been unseen. Land is too expensive, and owned by few. People are incredibly bitter towards each other, and we have become so afraid of strangers that we dare not be nice. So I ask, what does it mean to be American? Can I, a young man at a public university, feel American when I see so many conflicting forces, each claiming to be American?
I see the blind religious claim that the United States was founded on the principles of Jesus and should be a Christian country. I see the failing government in many issues across the board, and how they are eager to strip away individual liberties. I see fear in everyone, not of the government but of each other. I see no responsibility within corporations or government, both simply blaming each other but never the consumer, the same consumer who has been bred to become a sheep to which they sell us grass and sun, always with the threat of rainy days to keep us grateful towards them.
What now determines what an American is the lust for money. Capitalism has become what it means to be American, not liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We pride ourselves on being the melting pot, on how much diversity we have within our nation. Yet in the same sentence we condemn foreigners and persecute them in their own lands. We preach freedom, and censor ourselves out of fear of our own government. Our manifest destiny, which resulted in genocide and strife, has become warped and disfigured beyond recognition. The spirit of our country downtrodden and worn out.
As an American in the midst of youth, I find myself struggling not with inner turmoils and ambitions, but rather the turmoils of my country. As an American at a public university, I find a dichotomy between the variations of being American to be troubling, making me restless whenever I read the news or listen to the radio. As an American, I’m unsure of what it means to be an American.
And what better song to choose than an awesome French song about America. One of my favorites.
