We were practicing, as a choir, for the Memorial Day service. Not surprisingly, we're singing patriotic music - My Country 'Tis Of Thee and God Bless America. There is something about patriotic singing that causes such an incredible mix of (not entirely pleasant or complimentary) emotions to rise up in me.
Before I get tarred and feathered, let me explain. Part of the conflict comes from deeply loving my homeland. The United States of America, throughout its history, has held at its core a set of values that it is impossible for me not to find stirring, inspiring, and worth investing myself in upholding and advancing to the fullest possible degree. The notion that all people are created equal and are entitled to freedom, justice, equality before the law, self-determination, and participation in the process of collectively defining those values is beautiful; it is the beating heart of democracy. The nation itself is a marvel; the diversity of its people is matched only by the diversity of its landscape. This is a great nation.
But, another part of me always leaps up, too - the part of me that studied U.S. history in great depth at college, and the part of me that has lived and traveled abroad. It's as if I know too much. When we sing My Country 'Tis Of Thee, I don't share the sense that we ought to be celebrating the "Pilgrims' pride" because I'm fully aware of the horrors that they, and even more so the Puritans who followed them to the Massachusetts Bay Colony, inflicted upon the indigenous peoples of North America, and upon anybody who held different religious beliefs - how ironic that those who felt compelled to leave their homeland for religious freedom proved so unwilling to grant it to others, like the Quakers. We celebrate our ideals, but too often, the reality of life here has failed to measure up - after all, the same documents which enshrined the notion of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as inalienable rights also barred anyone but property-owning white men from voting, and defined black people as only 3/5 human. I also can't help but think of all of the people across the world who we have willingly crushed underfoot in our pursuit of imperial goals. It hurts me; it hurts to sing the praises of my nation, that I deeply love, precisely because I can't love it with the wide-eyed innocence of a child.
We're singing this hymn, as a choir, on the Sunday prior to Memorial Day. I think it captures my heart right now. And yes, the melody is totally jacked from Sibelius' Finlandia; if you're going to steal, then steal from the best.
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