Jul 4, 2020
July 4, 2020 — A Reflection
What does the phrase ”return to normal” mean to you? As I prepare to enter my fifth month of working from home full-time, I have seen several instances of people posing the notion of a “return to normal” [and a “return to work,” seemingly implying we’re not working harder than ever, but that’s another issue]. I am certainly guilty of using the phrase(s) myself from time to time, but as we have just scratched the surface of exponential socio-political development and progressive communal dialogue despite the worst pandemic in a century, it is important to stress that we must not — and cannot — return to the pre-COVID ways of being.
<rant> From a public health standpoint, Americans have collectively been blisteringly cavalier about our duty of due care to one another, as fellow human beings breathing the same air. Flattening the curve has — unsurprisingly — become a red/blue issue, as nonchalantly as any person, behavior, brand name, religion, ideology, orientation, or body shape that has proceeded it. At issue is the seemingly simple ask that — in the interest of our continued existence — people wear a piece of cloth over their noses and mouths (yes! both, people!) to prevent the possible spread of germs. For those who are healthy, young, or have no worries otherwise, many of them do not see the need to inconvenience themselves, even for the 10–15 minutes they’re in a store. It doesn’t cross their minds that they could end up being directly responsible for the death of a family member or close friend or infecting someone they sneeze on while walking down the street. But again, that is another issue for another piece. </rant>
As we ruminate about this year’s commemoration of our independent republic’s formation — a relatively short 244 years ago — we must consider the reality that we were neither established under, nor bound to the promise of liberty and justice for all.
Many people were off — or took off — yesterday to prepare for this day, filled with hamburgers, hot dogs, vegetarian counterparts thereof, U.S. Flag Code-violating apparel, flipflops, good ol’ ‘murican beer, brutal sunburns, and — most likely — some kind of face covering (hopefully; please and thank you). The day itself is usually just a day off from work, a time to be with family and/or friends, indulge heavily in our vice of choice, and to watch a fireworks display. Nowhere nearly often enough do we stop and think what we are supposed to be celebrating.
In 1607, Great Britain staked claim in already-populated land, a collective of thirteen colonies. More explicitly: imperialistically (and quite violently) commandeered land that was populated, cultivated, and maintained by a plethora of aboriginal tribes who lived off land to which they pledged (and still do) their passion and piety, to ensure its continued fruitful sustainability. Though genocide and enslavement certainly did not originate then, those were the unspoken realities of the time. In 1776, when the land (named in 1507 for Florentine explorer Amerigo Vespucci) declared its independence from the monarchial rule of the British king, our forefathers — and virtually everyone else with means and compromised morals— owned human beings and treated them like livestock. In 1789, when the U.S. Constitution took effect, roughly half of the men who signed it were slave owners. Yet, three words into the preamble, they set the scene that the nation had been founded on equality.
As many of us will be watching Lin-Manuel Miranda’s “Hamilton” on Disney+ this weekend, let us be reminded of his objection to human bondage:
“Man is either governed by his own laws — freedom — or the laws of another — slavery. Are you willing to become slaves? Will you give up your freedom, your life and your property without a single struggle? No man has a right to rule over his fellow creatures.” — Alexander Hamilton
If only his words had truly resonated with his fellow designers of the nation’s governing document, and slavery had been declared unconstitutional from the start, we might be a very different country today. We might be living in an exponentially-advanced society from which we currently live. We might still be the envy of the world and a respected super power. When a population is truly free, the possibilities for greatness are infinite.
I would be remiss if I did not additionally mention that our nation’s founding documents merely promised freedom and liberty for men. Women would not get the right to vote for another 130+ years. Men of color were granted that right fifty years earlier. Today, normal voter turnout for women far exceeds that of men [another side note: if we were truly free, it would be impossible to get those statistics due to our evolution to and acceptance of gender fluidity], and voter turnout among women of color (going back at least as far as 1984) clearly shows patterns consistent with the nation’s socio-political climate.
The United States of America [to distinguish from the fifty-four other independent nations in continents called America] has had its lion’s share of amazing feats in commerce, manufacturing, and industry; science and medicine; agriculture and food innovation; civil rights legislation; human flight and space exploration; world travel and communication; and self-education, namely: the internet. But, contrary to the now-famous phrase that has become more toxic than the red dye used to make those hats and the fumes in the factory in which they are built, here is a hard reality to swallow: America was never great. Unless we are talking about our physical, tangible technological advancements our one-time possession of super powers, or our our ability to present ourselves as a nation worthy of respect for our ‘superior morality,’ America. Was. Never. Great. [I am sorry I hurt you. My intention is not to make you angry, but to inspire you to shake yourself awake and accept the gifts that a truly equal society would undoubtedly bring.] Instead of us individually fretting about getting into Heaven (or not believing in it — good for you, seriously — I was there once.), we could bring Heaven down to earth and all get there and share in it together.
If your initial reaction to reading that was to sarcastically, and cartoonishly flamboyantly say out loud “Ohhh let’s sit around a campfire and sing kumbaya!,” I am shocked that you’re still reading this. Perhaps there is hope to convince you of an evolved and enlightened way of being. Good, while I have your attention, allow me to propose a notion that popped into my head this past week (though I’m confident I am not the first):
Let’s change the date of Independence Day. We can still commemorate this weekend and cement its current place as the Black Friday of the summer and retailers and restaurants and bars can still have their ::deep, booming voice:: “AMERICA EXTRAVAGANZAAAAAA! BEER AND BALD EAGLES!! USA! USA!” to commemorate the new America we gave birth to together. I began writing this last month, as I reflected on Juneteenth and what it means — particularly at this precise moment in time. [Spring makes us subconsciously happier, and by the summer we’re open to trying new things]
As I thought about it more and more, and life prevented me from finishing this within a reasonably timely enough window of my original June 19th deadline, I thought more deeply. As I mentioned earlier, women (even white women) were not granted the right to vote until August 18, 1920. Granted, August can be brutally hot and humid, but the lakes, rivers, and oceans will be warmer, a lot kids will be back from camp around then, fresh and local summer produce will be in full swing, and we can still wear whatever we’d like, because this is OUR America, right?
[Ed. Note: If you have not had the literary pleasure of reading the words of Frederick Douglas’ “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?” — please do yourself a favor.]
So, in the paraphrased words of our forefathers, awakened and made more meaningful to finish out 2020 on an even keel:
In order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense (including defense from infectious disease), promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, we must not — and cannot — return to the pre-COVID ways of being.
