Am I still proud to be an American? Part 1

There's an old song sung by Lee Greenwood. It's called, I'm Proud to Be an American. I remember hearing it sung for the first time on the radio as I was driving along with my Papaw thru the hills of Southern Indiana. It's a good song. Lyrical and patriotic. It reminds us of all the great things of this United States of America. Here's the chorus to give you a taste:

And I'm proud to be an American
Where at least I know I'm free
And I won't forget the men who died
Who gave that right to me
And I'd gladly stand up next to you
And defend Her still today
'Cause there ain't no doubt
I love this land
God Bless the U.S.A.

I remember hearing my cousin sing it as a young boy. He couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old at the time. And I remember being thrilled that this patriotic song was still around and it's message being spread. 

Times have changed since Lee Greenwood's song began gracing the airwaves. Since his song became part of the lexicon for America's celebrations of independence and freedom. I'm not sure I can boldly sing along to the chorus of this song. Because as I've gotten older, the broken and unsavory parts of America have become more visible to me. I still am ever grateful for the military men and women who fight for the right I have to even type these words. But I worry about them. I have seen firsthand the devastation of a soldier who has fought multiple tours of duty and then was brought back stateside and given little to no resources to become reacclimated to civilian life. Yes, I am grateful, but I also want better for our service men and women and their families.

I am so thankful that I can stand up and speak my beliefs in the open court of the internet, but I have also experienced the grief of being shouted down by my family when my concerns about immigration policies, taxation, universal healthcare and political leanings differ from those my family members. When my own family and close friends can not have discourse on these volatile topics, how will I ever have the courage to speak out to strangers? Or will the message that my voice doesn't matter be stronger than the call to speak up for the voiceless?

When I see the same abuses of power being done again, again and again, can I really say that a representative democracy is the best form of government? As I read about scandals at all levels of government, the seed of cynicism becomes a veritable sequoia of distrust. When I read the articles about our two major political parties spending thousands of dollars to discredit their opponents and willfully vote against policies that would benefit all people living in the United States, it makes me hang and then shake my head in despair. It is not to bold a statement to say that I have lost my faith in our political systems. 

Seeing the divisive nature of our current American culture, it makes me ashamed to be an American. When the joke of putting a Canadian flag on a backpack when traveling overseas becomes a standard practice, that makes my soul sad. We put the flag on our backpack so not to be automatically reviled or dismissed because we are American. When the President is more of a punch line to a joke than he is a leader I can not honestly say I am proud to be a fellow Citizen.

When morality is thrown out of our legal proceedings. When hate and violence and fear-mongering are the basis for communicating to the public via news outlets, or in the protests on the streets, I cringe in fear for the next generation. When I read articles of Jewish temples, African-American churches, LGBTQ events being bombed, shot up or desecrated with bigotry spray painted on their walls, I think to myself this is not the America where I want my kids to grow up. 

Can I be proud to be an American? Can I sing the National Anthem without cringing at the ways our leaders use it in their hypocrisy? I don't know. I want to say yes, but I also want to be true.