Me & Patriotism

As a young child I remember singing patriotic songs about America in school. I had a friend of Latino decent who told me, "I don't sing the part that says, "Land where my fathers died..." because none of my fathers ever died here."

I thought to myself, "Yeah, that makes sense." But then realized that as a first generation Swedish-American, none of my fathers have died on this land as of yet either! But I later decided that the men & women who have died for my country may not have been MY genetic fathers (and mothers), but the parents of my country.



For most of my youth I never considered myself an American. I was proud of my heritage to a fault, as a Swede. When my sister & I visited the home country of our parents when we were teenagers we were the American girls, and I didn't like it. We didn't speak much Swedish, and were American citizens. I had always thought of myself as Swedish, so being dubbed an American girl put a dent in my pride. I finally had to humbly tell myself, "I am an American."



Years later I made the choice to be a missionary for my church, and was assigned to the Russia, Yekaterinburg mission. I was in the Missionary Training Center in Provo, UT, for what would be my last Independence Day in the United States for 18 months. Something about being sent to a formerly Communist country, as an American woke something up inside me. For the first time in my life I was really, REALLY, proud to be an American! We were allowed to watch fireworks on the grounds of the training center, and I remember being tearful and appreciative for my country.

While in Russia I had a mission companion who occasionally would knock on a door and say, "Hello, we are Americans!" instead of what we were supposed to say ("We are representatives of the Church of Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints," a mouth full, especially in the Russian language!). The 'We are Americans' bit always seemed to open doors. Russians apparently are fascinated with Americans! One man, who was clearly intoxicated, burst into tears, went inside his apartment to comb his hair, then came back and said, "I'm sorry, but I've never met Americans before!" I wanted to cry myself I was so touched by this response. I wanted to reach out and give him a hug, but this wasn't allowed. Missionary rules are very strict.



Since 9/11/01 I've had so many mixed feelings, not necessarily of my country, but about my government. I've had feelings of pride, and feelings of disappointment. I love my country, though I know that it has it's faults.

Growing up, my parents never really discussed politics. Since becoming U.S. citizens, I don't think they have even claimed a political party. I grew up with a love for my country, as well as the country of my forefathers... and then a love and fascination for the diverse cultures of the world!

In our day the country that I have pledged my allegiance to isn't the only "free country", but one that sets an example of freedom to others. Of course, I don't condone forcing political beliefs on others, but believe that everyone should have a right to at least choose how they would like to be governed.



Over & out. Have a happy & peaceful Independence Day!