Unwittingly (a fitting state on a rare day off from work), I wandered toward the community's Fourth of July Parade. I stopped and pondered.
On my morning walk, I noticed folks walking toward the parkway. A police car blocked the street a an intersection. Families with little kids spread blankets in shaded spots alongside. It wasn't my original plan, but soon it became an opportunity to attend the July 4th parade, which was led by the high school band.
For most of the last few decades, I've lived in east coast and midwest cities, so it was interesting to observe a version of celebration in a suburban Dallas, Texas environment. Nobody was nervous, surprised, or hard pressed. My estimate was that there was a visible policeman or fireman for every dozen people in attendance. Everything was well under control.
I can only guess what meaningfulness the July 4th Parade had for the participants and observers. One band. Less than a half-dozen home-grown "floats". Maybe 10 vehicles containing some personage of note. No bicycle brigade, no equestrians, no clowns or acrobats or costumed groups. Quiet and a little meek.
Stephen Carter's article at Bloomberg is on to something important as he points out a connection between our primary patriotic holiday and political dissent. He acknowledges that many traditionally patriotic displays have waned:
But the one symbol of patriotism that has yet to fade is our love of dissent -- loud, raucous, passionate, sometimes impolite -- and it is dissent that we should be celebrating on Independence Day.
Indeed, it's worrisome that in so many comfortable, affluent suburban neighborhoods, the noisy struggle that is democracy is all but shut down. Diversity is minimal, and presenting a united front is top priority.
Neighborhood after neighborhood--all built from farm and ranch land in the last 20 years--has some sort of street naming scheme reflecting English geography and nobility. Sprawling tract houses are represented as working folks' castles. A sort of new feudalism implies the biggest property owner rules.
If we celebrate Independence Day as meaning we have the right to own and control our own turf without interference from anyone else, we miss the mark. The world is too small to maintain the illusion that we are each on our own. As little people, we need to struggle to make our voices heard over the din of dollars. As folks who are (most likely) more privileged and powerful than some of our neighbors, we need to celebrate and encourage a culture where dissent and dialog can thrive.
We like fireworks on July 4th and should notice it might be construed as an incendiary, phoenix-like image of renewal. When you start thinking along those lines, this beloved holiday seems a bit more radical.
Are you inclined to be "patriotic" in a different way today?