Tomorrow we celebrate our nation’s independence, a day for patriotism and celebration, a day to show our all-Americanism. I intend to fully participate in the festivities by taking my daughters to a parade complete with color guard, fire trucks, floats, tumblers, and tossed candy followed by a classic cookout with friends and family. It will, Lord willing, be a wonderful Fourth of July celebration.But, contrary to the insidious song and sentiment of the day, I am not “proud to be an American.” To be precise, I am not proud because I am an American. I am not proud because pride is for those things that we accomplish, those achievements for which we deserve credit. How did I end up an American? I was born one, and I would be a fool to be proud of something for which I can take no credit. My Americanism was granted to me and is a gift, not a status.
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