Remember this holiday weekend, we are a 'United' States of America

This week, the entire country will celebrate the Fourth of July. The day that, historically speaking, actually marks the date that the Declaration of Independence was ratified by the Second Continental Congress. The Congress voted in favor of independence on July 2, and it would take two more full days for the delegates from all 13 colonies at the time to adopt the Declaration itself.

What began in 1776, right here in our own region, has echoed across the globe. It inspired other countries to seek their independence. It sparked a war. It created an entire nation, a land of the free and home of the brave.

Did you know the day wasn’t made a federal holiday until 1941? While some celebrated the occasion long before the official designation, the holiday itself has blossomed into today’s traditions well after its causation. Want a few more fun facts (what can I say, I’m a sucker for good bar trivia)? John Adams, a member of the five-man team that drafted the “formal statement justifying the break with Great Britian,” himself believed July 2 should have been the correct day to celebrate independence. He would reportedly turn down invitations to attend July 4 events “in protest.”

Thomas Jefferson, another member of the small committee, would die, along with Adams, on exactly July 4, 1826, just 50 years after their grand declaration, both on the same day.

Now, our country prepares to celebrate 250 years of that same independence, some may not feel like celebrating much. Despite years of battling for equal rights, so many of our own citizens still are subject to unfair standards. I won’t delve, headfirst, into the horrors I consider unfair, unreal, and un-American, but suffice it to say, there are many that worry me.

Politics completely aside, as being human is a common thread, no matter what walk of life you come from, and your life matters, I would love to think we are all on a path that our forefathers envisioned, but better. Back then, you could own slaves. Back then, women were viewed as not much more than a baby-maker. We have a long and sorted history of repression.

I guess I find that entire concept ironic. We are a country founded for freedom. We wanted to choose our own religion. We called ourselves a “melting pot” of people, welcoming with open arms any color, background, socioeconomic level … anyone.

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” These words by Emma Lazarus in “The New Colossus” didn’t just encompass our country’s purpose, but were emblazoned onto the Statue of Liberty, a symbol of our freedoms.

But today, it seems at least to me, we are rolling back freedoms more than ensure all have them. We are creating a reputation I, for one, am no longer proud of, and it scares me at times to be perfectly honest.

Don’t get me wrong. I love our country. I love our goals and aspirations. I love that we aim to be, almost, the Island of Misfit Toys. We want to welcome all, provide any with access to the “American Dream.” Everyone should be free. You should be free to live, free to vote, free to marry, free to love, free to practice your religion or beliefs, free to work your way up, free to save and contribute, free to be yourself.

In my opinion, we have a long way to go to make such dreams a reality. I have recently had an opportunity, however, to leave the country on vacations this summer. And what I learned shed more light on the reality of our country than any lesson I could have learned inside of it.

When we would explain that we were Americans, we were greeted with warm friendly smiles. We were welcomed into their countries, despite political turmoil, rhetoric that aims to divide us. They were wonderfully lovely people, every place we went. They were happy to have us as tourists, and so glad that we’d chosen their corner of the world to explore.

This sentiment, however, was not that different from my own experiences here at home. Even when we do not agree on a political matter or issue, I find people are not as evil, cruel, or angry as we are sometimes portrayed. We come off as a Red versus Blue nation. We vote, and voice opinions, and proclaim on social media our beliefs which are not always the same. In fact, we’ve become a nation that seems quite divided, if you are to believe perception.

But when it comes down to it, down to the real folks that make up this country, you’ll find we aren’t that different. We are all human. We all want to feel safe, protected, loved. We all want to seek happiness, live a healthy life, and enjoy our world. We may differ in opinions, but I find that if you look at the people around you, the real humans, you’ll see just how similar we really all are.

While we continue to hear how “divided” we all are, it seems to me we are far more united than it seems. In preparation for my journey, I had reason to seek an updated passport. While awaiting our turn, my two teens and I sat in a DMV-reminiscent waiting room. Still plastic chairs were lined up in rows, and every few minutes, a new number would be announced.

“Ticket Number X-418, service at Window Three,” would pique all interest. The quiet buzz of conversation would pause. The room would await the announcement. Whose turn would it be next?

During this wait, a young man came in on crutches. He had a leg cast from hip to toes. As he entered the waiting pool, one man got up from his seat to allow the casted man an aisle position for his wait. Another slid the chairs ahead of him to make room for his unmovable limb. Another scooted her belongings, to provide a wider space for him.

Just as soon as the poor lad was settled into a seat, made possible by those strangers around him, his number was called. The room giggled, the whole room. Some in an “isn’t it ironic” kind of tone, while others had a sympathetic moan. Yes, we were waiting in a rather unfun situation. Yes, we were all sick of waiting. But after helping this man to sit, we’d suddenly become closer.

The same handful of folks helped the young man back up, handed him his crutches, moved aside to provide room for him. There were maybe 20 people in this small space, but we all felt for the guy. Many took action to assist. And nearly all both laughed and moaned when the poor soul had to arise just as quicky as he had seated himself.

Yes, it was a very small room. But it consisted of a very wide variety of humans. There were people from a number of other home countries. Some spoke other languages. There were many shades of skin. Some were finely dressed with leather name-branded purses in tow. Others were in tattered, worn T-shirts, anxiously worrying that if they could not get their documents today, it would be an immense struggle to take a series of buses to return later in the week from many hours away.

It was a mini melting pot. We all had one goal: to get our passport situation sorted. We all were in the same space: a waiting room with less-than-ideal conditions. We were unified.

And when one of us was in trouble, we helped each other. When one suffered, we commiserated with him. We both laughed and moaned, putting ourselves in his shoes, knowing such a struggle must be so much harder on crutches and in a massive cast.

I know. It was this tiny Petrie dish of humanity. But it encouraged me. It made me feel more human. It reminded me, we are all in this together. And though this, and even my interactions in my travels, are just small examples, it did give me hope. We are all far more alike than we are different.

This holiday weekend, I hope you are able to celebrate. I hope you can enjoy the long way we’ve come as a country, while still realizing we have a long way to go, too. I know I’ll do it feeling just a bit more patriotic, knowing that no matter what the rhetoric tells you, we are the UNITED States of America. We’re in this together, and I think you’ll find you have more in common with your neighbor than not. Let’s remember that. Let’s be truly united.