4th of July: a discussion in two parts

Part 1: In which JoBiv details her adventures on the Fourth of July

It occurred to me, after three days of curling myself into a ball on the couch, that I should celebrate Independence Day with some show of independence. And so I kicked myself out of my apartment... after watching Never Say Never, Connery's last appearance as James Bond. (Couldn't resist.)

Out I went into the world, with a sketchy plan in mind. I'm proud to say I hit all of my goals. I wandered thusly:

1. To Macy's and Filene's, where I bought sale-priced sunglasses and wallet respectively.

2. To Quincy Market, where I watched street performers and enjoyed the company of tourists.

3. To the Long Wharf, where I finished a book and gazed out at the water, all the boats, the planes landing... so lovely.

4. Back to Quincy Market for a kielbasa (yum) after which I ran into Beverlay, the 74 yr old soprano from our community choir. She talked to me for a while about very random things, and I showed her the stair-less way to get to Washington street so she could buy an all-beef hotdog from a street vendor.

5. Onward to the Esplinade, where I managed to walk, without having a panic attack, among thousands and thousands of people. Holy crap. At which point, my mind was made up to...

6. T to Summit Ave (on the B line, because the grade is gentler), where I commenced a leisurely walk up to Corey Hill Park, which was also overrun with people. I waited there for 45 minutes or more, making idle chitchat with neighbors, ooh-ing and ahh-ing, trying to ignore the sudden appearance of a guy I made out with last fall who stood RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME fondling his girlfriend and turning to look at me every once in a while. Ick. He did not ruin my night, despite his efforts.

7. To my apartment, down the hill, calves aching, feet a'blisterin', to catch the end of a dismal Sox game. Another Foulke-up.


Part 2: In which JoBiv wonders about patriotism

Hahem.

Patriotism. Yes. I mean to say, I feel like it's been stolen from me. Why do I feel hesistant on patriotic holidays? Why don't I don some red, white and blue? I tell myself that I think it's a bit tacky, but really, I'm afraid to show patriotism.

Meera asked me, very out of the blue, how I felt about our nation's flag. I was glad she asked because it's been bothering me. Ever since 9/11, when I was in Ireland and my family gave me bulletins about the goings-on at the homefront, I have felt alienated from the flag-worshipers of the United States. This sensation only grew sharper during the elections.

I told Meera and Ross about this moment I had in a car somewhere. We were behind a truck with a big flag sticker on its back window, and I felt this worried, distrustful clenching in my heart, and all at once I realized it was the same feeling I get when I see a truck with a big ol' confederate flag. Distrust, fear, maybe a little disgust.

The thing is, I feel like the flag has been stolen by conservatives, like liberals aren't ALLOWED to raise a flag in support of the country, because that would actually be misconstrued as support for Bush, war, big business, pollution, "No Child Left Behind" (ugh... don't let me get started on that), book banning... the list goes on. How completely unjust is it that I can't own a positive meaning for the United States' flag? How is it that MY flag can't stand for my belief that democracy should give every person a voice? That democracy gives us the right to dissent, that it gives us the chance to share this huge nation's incredible wealth among those who need it, that it gives us the power to use all of our intelligence and resource to find peaceful solutions?

And really, how unfair is it to conservatives that the symbol connotes such strong negativity? I don't know how that happened, and I don't like it. I want to believe that my political point of view allows room for other points of view, but every time I see that big ol' flag in a truck window, or a "Support our troops" magnet, or any other symbol like these, I swear I can actually feel my mind narrowing.

So yesterday's wanderings stemmed from a conscious attempt to feel better about patriotism, to convince myself that I should be allowed to call myself patriot. There was a time when I thought I would live in Europe for the rest of my life, because so much of what happens in this country angers me. If I lived abroad, I could judge wherever I lived and not blame myself for its shortcomings.

When Meera and I went to hear Marjane Satrapi speak, she said something that reminded me of why I chose to live in the states, in Boston. Someone asked her if she would ever want to move back to Iran. She said something like, "I WANT to. I want to more than anything. Iran is my country, and I love it, and I wish it was possible for me to live there. As soon as it is, I will return." Of course, she said it in her way, which was beautiful and intelligent and SO impressive for a woman who learned English as a third or fourth or fifth language. My point is, this woman, who knows she would be murdered as soon as she set foot in her home country, who has had the chance to live abroad and live home again... She would choose home.

I can't exactly compare myself to Marjane Satrapi; her situation is much more complex than mine. I mean only to say that she embodies what I think a true patriot can be: a person who has confronted the worst of what her country can be, and still loves it enough to believe it is capable of something better.

Can I be that?