I love this. I struggle as a woman of color “loving” this country because of my aforementioned ancestors who came in chains and even the way things are going now. Plus this “freedom” that we laud so much seems to be enjoyed at the expense of others. I just don’t know if love is the right word for my feelings. But thank you so much for your essay ♥️
A writer I admire, Kirsten Sanders, started a substack for her own entry into Middle Earth — You might find it a fun companion to peruse through: https://inparticular.substack.com/p/prologue
Thank you for this, Claire. I have really struggled to articulate this is the past few years. Do I love my country? Yes. Does my country break my heart every time I check the news? Also yes. Very hard to hold space for both; I have often be around groups who only hate the country or who think America is perfect.
I worked with refugees for a year during a time when the federal government was making extreme cuts to the refugee program. My family was parroting a lot of harmful lies about refugees that they heard on the news to me. I perceived many Americans, especially the ones who proudly proclaim they're American, being very hateful to what I was I doing. That made it very hard to love my country. At the same, I was helping refugees who were praising God that they were in the US. Refugees who still believed in the American Dream. Refugees who saw the opportunity before them and took it. And that made it very easy to love my country.
I've wrestling with those two feelings for a while now,
Wow...what a unique perspective. I think that's part of where it comes from for me too. My husband's family were definitely *not* refugees to be clear, but they were immigrants and were so so thankful to be here. And so many of their family members wish they could be here, too. And that's what makes it hard to hear people talk about how badly they want to burn everything down--the feeling that they don't understand how lucky they are to even be able to say that on the internet without getting thrown in jail.
I just dropped in...searching for sane articles on these matters...and wanted to write and say thanks for this!
I love this. I struggle as a woman of color “loving” this country because of my aforementioned ancestors who came in chains and even the way things are going now. Plus this “freedom” that we laud so much seems to be enjoyed at the expense of others. I just don’t know if love is the right word for my feelings. But thank you so much for your essay ♥️
I love this. Thanks for the food for thought for the Fourth <3
A writer I admire, Kirsten Sanders, started a substack for her own entry into Middle Earth — You might find it a fun companion to peruse through: https://inparticular.substack.com/p/prologue
Thank you for this, Claire. I have really struggled to articulate this is the past few years. Do I love my country? Yes. Does my country break my heart every time I check the news? Also yes. Very hard to hold space for both; I have often be around groups who only hate the country or who think America is perfect.
I worked with refugees for a year during a time when the federal government was making extreme cuts to the refugee program. My family was parroting a lot of harmful lies about refugees that they heard on the news to me. I perceived many Americans, especially the ones who proudly proclaim they're American, being very hateful to what I was I doing. That made it very hard to love my country. At the same, I was helping refugees who were praising God that they were in the US. Refugees who still believed in the American Dream. Refugees who saw the opportunity before them and took it. And that made it very easy to love my country.
I've wrestling with those two feelings for a while now,
Wow...what a unique perspective. I think that's part of where it comes from for me too. My husband's family were definitely *not* refugees to be clear, but they were immigrants and were so so thankful to be here. And so many of their family members wish they could be here, too. And that's what makes it hard to hear people talk about how badly they want to burn everything down--the feeling that they don't understand how lucky they are to even be able to say that on the internet without getting thrown in jail.
"And yet: we love imperfect things everyday." Love these words. Thank you for the reminder.