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Being patriotic shouldn’t be partisan. Nor should being a patriot be political.
But here we are.
In 1982, there was a big celebration in my hometown as American LaFrance, then a maker of fire trucks, celebrated its 150th anniversary. There were multiple events, including the biggest parade I ever remember in Elmira, New York, complete with an appearance by the Philadelphia Mummers and the Goodyear Blimp.
It was a big deal for a small upstate New York town.
About this time, I have another one of those “why do I remember this?” memories. I remember thinking about how cool it would be when the United States celebrated its 250th birthday. I was just about to turn 2 when the bicentennial happened, so I have no memory of that, but I was told stories about the fireworks, and they sounded awesome.
There I was, a young kid thinking about an event more than 40 years in the future.
Independence Day was a favorite holiday of mine. It is the same month as my birthday and my mom would seek out fireworks. In a good year, we would catch three or four different displays. The one I looked forward to the most was in Corning, a 20-minute car ride in her Ford Country Squire to the west of my hometown. We would get there hours ahead of time to ensure we got a good spot, claim our spot on the lawn with blankets and wait for a 15, maybe 20-minute fireworks show.
It was always worth it.
From time to time, I would think about how much better the fireworks were going to be for the 250th.
And here we are.
But that excitement is gone.
Some might say that’s what happens when you get older. Maybe that’s part of the reason.
The current political climate has taken whatever excitement was left. This administration has turned an anticipated celebration of country to one of a person, a party.
I lived in the Washington, D.C., area for about six years, and the Smithsonian Folklife Festival was an annual favorite, so the idea of a Great American State Fair sounded fun. The best of every state and territory in one spot: Spiedies from New York, fried butter from Iowa, corn dogs, Pronto Pups, funnel cakes. Perhaps a marionberry sundae. Maybe Big Tex would show up.
Instead, we get political rallies, empty booths, D-list (that’s being generous) concerts and a scaled-down version of a monument nobody asked for. And divisive speeches by a president and his minions.
I can’t get excited about that.
I am glad to have been born in the United States. I defend things that are uniquely American but make little sense to outsiders: our political system, the electoral college, freedom of speech, no matter how offensive. I brought a bottle of ranch dressing to my in-laws in Lithuania and made them chili.
Sure, there are things that are hard to defend: American exceptionalism, nonexistent gun control, our healthcare system, which sadly might be the most American thing of all.
But that’s America. You take the bad with the good.
That brings us to today: July 4, 2026.
I should wear my finest red, white and blue something. Maybe get an America 250 hat.
I should find the largest fireworks display and pass that tradition on to my daughter.
I should plan a patriotic social media post and include photos of past celebrations to show how much this day has always meant.
I should hang bunting from the balcony.
I should raise an American flag, maybe say the pledge or sing the national anthem.
I won’t. I don’t want to.
The current administration hijacked patriotism. It seems only people who show the president fealty get to be called patriots.
There was a day I wanted to be considered a patriot. I would have made an effort to be patriotic.
Not now. Not this year.
Just being American will do.
But that makes me sad. That makes the little kid, riding in the back of the Ford Country Squire on his way to another fireworks display, sad.
I’m still proud to be American. I root for the United States men’s national soccer team to somehow win the World Cup. I root for every American at every Olympics.
So, as we mark the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, I’ll do what I do every Friday: celebrate a piece of that other founding document, the Constitution, written 11 years later.
This piece:
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”
I get to be a part of the only business whose freedom is guaranteed in the Constitution.
I’ll celebrate that every day.
It’s unlikely I’ll be here when we celebrate the tricentennial.
But we can work now so that when it arrives, things are different. We can ensure patriotism isn’t political. Ensure that being a patriot is no longer partisan.
Every American deserves that. Every little kid riding in the back of a Ford, or a Subaru Outback or a Toyota RAV4, deserves that.
And a fantastic fireworks display, set against music by John Philip Sousa.
