I am not an American. That is not to say I’m Anti-American. Quite the opposite. I support this country very much and am grateful that it exists. I am perfectly happy living here, and although I’ve never resided in any other country, I am confident that I would rather live here than most other places in the world. Also, I don’t mean to suggest that I am not racially American, because who in this country isn’t? But if its whiteness you’re looking for, I’ve got that. I am as white as the people who started this place, and certainly as white as the people who run it today. I was born in America, as were my parents, and even some of their parents too. Sure, if that’s what you call an American, than that’s what I am.
Perhaps you define an American by their consumer habits, in which case I am American enough for a whole family. I use iTunes to download songs onto my iPod which I use to and from class, on the train, on the street. I buy frozen meals like Lean cuisine and hot pockets, and when on the road I enjoy nothing more than a McDonalds Snack Wrap. I work at Banana Republic where I sell Jeans for $100, Boots for $200, and jackets for $300, and sometimes I forget to marvel at how people can spend that much on an article of clothing, because sometimes I do too. I have more than what I need but less than what I want. But that doesn’t make me an American.
Neither does the fact that I vote, oddly enough. But I do. I vote at every possible election, whether national, state or town level. Even these years where I am out of state at college, I always pick up and fill out my absentee ballot. I registered to vote when I was still 17, on the first possible day I could do so, in preparation for the upcoming November and I get into bitter arguments with some of my best friends who still aren’t registered. I believe that the right to vote is one of the most important rights we have in this country and it is an insult to your society to refuse it. Most people would argue that this makes me an American. I would not.
I am not an American, and it is not because I drive a Toyota or because I oppose the war or George Bush. It is not because I don’t own an American flag, and wouldn’t take one if it were offered to me. It is not because my Grandmother was born in Cuba, and has nothing to do with my love of Canada. No, the reason is not as definable. Most of the time I can’t even quite verbalize it, but it always something I feel, I know to be true. But when forced to put into words, the one that pushes its way to the forefront of my mind is this: Isolation.
I, and I suspect many others have been isolated. Our country has run away from us, and we (for the most part) didn’t even notice. I don’t mean this in the way that the Government in Orwell’s 1984 ran away from them. I am not talking about dictatorships or propaganda or conspiracy. No, the threat here is much more subtle, much less intentional but potentially, just as serious. An isolated people have nothing to fight for and everything to lose. We are not the proletariat, bound by our chains awaiting the call to action. We are not the bourgeoisie, exploiting the lower classes to establish our extravagant pedestals with which to rule creation. We are instead found in between, caught in limbo in a comfortable social purgatory. We are the lost generation that doesn’t realize that it’s lost. We care, but we don’t know how to show it. We know the steps we have to take but haven’t learned to walk them. We are out of touch with our country, our government and what it means to be an American, so much so that we can no longer call this our country; just the place where we happen to live.
What happened? In the 60’s and 70’s it seems, everyone knew what they wanted and how to get it. If there was injustice, it was thwarted with justice. If there was oppression, a movement was manifested. If there was an unjust, oppressive movement, an opposing counter-movement would form and protest. The public, the youth, the country had a voice and it was stern and potent, and if it wasn’t being heard, they raised the volume until it was. Has the past generation been glamorized over time? Probably. I can’t say for sure, as I was not there. Perhaps the stakes were higher. Perhaps not. Either way, it appears evident that there used to be something in our collective conscience that is for some reason absent today.
Where is our “You can’t kill us all,” mentality. Do we need a Kent State in order to fully realize our potential, our duty, our purpose as Americans? Maybe not, because even before the shootings, there were still large scale protests all across campuses in the country. The government made a decision without consulting its people, and the people revolted. In response to the 1970 shootings at Kent state, the press secretary at the white house chided, “'when dissent turns to violence, it invites tragedy.” This was truly a frightening statement, coming from the president. What happens when the government won’t listen to peaceful protest? England wasn’t listening when the first Americans revolted to start this country. We exist because of violent protest. Stated in the declaration of Independence, “when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.” That is to say, when your government is screwing you, it is the people’s responsibility to show the government who really runs the country. This worked for quite a while. But then something happened.
I don’t know when and I don’t know exactly how. But at some point, the American public lost that flame. We are frightened. We are confused. We know what we want but don’t know how to get it.. We have strong beliefs. We all have opinions but we don’t know what to do with them. We can’t step up to the voting booth and select yes or no for issues like invading Iraq. We can’t vote to end climate change. I have been shouting about global warming for 7 years and have seen progress made, but not because of me, and I don’t even always practice what I preach. Some say every little bit counts, and I do as well. But most people don’t and perhaps that’s where the true problem lies.
Complacency comes like breathing to most, to me even. How does one stay motivated in a world where no one cares, where no one is listening? If there were a nationwide student strike organized to bring our troops home from Iraq, I would participate. But I would not know where to begin to actualize a movement like that. And I think most people would have school work to be doing, or an appointment to go to, or are tired and are going to go home and take a nap. You can watch a documentary on the war and feel emotionally charged and maybe get involved with some local campaigns. In a couple weeks the typical disillusion will set in, the mundane will commandeer your lifestyle once again and the old world order persists. I could hand out flyers in town but most people who read them would probably already support the cause. I could organize a protest in Washington, but its been done before with no results and who would want to get in the car for that long anyway?
So this is where we find ourselves. We want change but don’t know how to enact it. So we do the only thing you can do in a situation where you feel powerless: we retreat. We fall back into our lives of school and work and iPod stereos and drugs and sex and NBC Primetime. We forget staying up all night watching live footage the first night we invaded Iraq. We forget the frustration of living in a country where two people in love can’t always be treated fairly, not only by the public, but by the law. We forget about the rapidly shrinking ice caps because we are too used to our cars already and what’s one person going to do about it anyway? We forget about detainees, social security, wiretapping, because dwelling on it will only remind us that our country has gotten away from us and we don’t have the slightest idea how to get it back.
So what’s the answer? We can look back at what has initialized change in the past. Kent State. The breaking point, a tragic catalyst that unites the public in rebellion. The National Guard killed 4 protestors on May 4th, 1970, and 2 more later that month, and suddenly, the people were no longer going to take it. Sometimes it takes a fire starter. “Someone who’ll rattle the cages,” as Batman once said. A popular, charismatic figure to rally behind. One person can’t make a difference, but one person with the support of a country can do anything. So do we patiently await our Batman? Al Gore has been a significant leader in the Green campaign. A political leader in the public eye with a lot of money and an agenda can do amazing things. He even lays out things that individual can do: Eat less beef, drive fuel-efficient vehicles, plant a tree. But most people, 2 weeks after watching “An Inconvenient Truth,” will resume their old habits because they can’t see the difference they are making and Al Gore isn’t looking in through the window. The cycle continues.
Perhaps there is no answer, but that cant be! Are we really doomed to stand by powerless as our government strips away more and more rights, encroaches further, listens less? With a little imagination, it is not difficult to imagine how a nation could slip into an Orwellian state without the people ever really noticing. When you cant be the change you want to see in the world, you distract yourself. It’s too depressing otherwise. That’s why every day, I look away. I don’t talk about Iraq. I don’t think about limited oil supply, or where we get it from or drilling in ANWR. If it happens it happens. I don’t think about children starving in Africa because I have a meal plan and I don’t know what it’s like to be hungry. I don’t worry about health care because I am covered and don’t know anyone who isn’t. I am not active because I forgot how to be and no one is calling me out. I am not striving for change because our political leaders are just TV stars to me. I am not what I should be. I am not the person this country was built for. I am not an American. I’m just a kid with a country and no idea how to use it.
