Don't hate me...I'm American

I thought this might be a good place to vindicate myself. I'm not brave enough to do it here.

Andrew read this article on By Common Consent about wanting to be a proud American. The fast Sunday in July was mentioned in the article as being rather awkward for the author's family, since his wife isn't American. Andrew left a comment mentioning that that Sunday is rather awkward for our family as well. It's the one fast Sunday of the year when I almost purposely tune out everything everyone says and find myself squirming in my seat when I accidentally listen.

I wasn't raised singing The Star-Spangled Banner with my hand over my heart. I wasn't raised reverencing the American flag. I wasn't raised saying the Pledge of Allegiance every day or week or month or at all in school. I wasn't raised in America.

That said, I am an American citizen and I am not offended by any of these behaviors. I even try my best to participate in these activities. I do.

I think it's a good thing to remember how blessed we are to live in a comparatively free country. I think it's a good thing to remember and honor the soldiers who fought for that freedom. I appreciate all the good things about America, I really do. I got an A in every American History class I took in high school and college. I sing the national anthem. I use trash cans. I've been to Mt. Rushmore. I vote.

I'm a fine citizen, I think.

But I wasn't raised thinking that the United States was the most wonderful and privileged country in the whole world--the "best." And you probably won't find me expressing my appreciation and patriotism by decorating my Christmas tree in a stars and stripe theme. Sorry.

I remember once, soon after I had moved to the States, a friend asked me how it felt to now live in the best country in the world. I looked her in the eye and said,

"This isn't the best country in the world."

"Then which country is?!" She asked incredulously, obviously gravely offended, "Canada?!"

"Well, no," I answered back, genuinely confused about a) why she was offended and b) why she would think that, "None of them are."

And that is, indeed, my opinion. There is no "best" country in the world and I find it difficult to listen to people express, during testimony meeting (or, you know, anywhere), how they feel so blessed to live in America--the "best" country in the world. Not that I haven't felt blessed to live in America, because I have.

But still that first Sunday in July is the most awkward Sunday for me the whole year long.

One commenter (among many) questioned this by saying:

"I don’t see any general reason to be more uncomfortable hearing the national anthem of the United States in an American congregation than the national anthem of the corresponding country in any foreign congregation."

He, in my opinion, misunderstands the awkwardness. I completely agree with what he says. I know several national anthems and have no problem singing any of them, whether in that country or out of it: American, British, Canadian, Russian, whatever.

My feelings of discomfort stem not from singing the national anthem, but from the feeling that the meeting has turned from worshiping God to worshiping America. Also, often what people intend to sound patriotic (love of country and willingness to sacrifice for it) actually comes off strongly nationalistic (the doctrine that your national culture and interests are superior to any other). Nationalism at the pulpit seems akin to idol worship to me. It is difficult for me to say amen to speakers who sound too nationalistic for that reason. I guess that's two reasons, the first being that they seem to be worshiping America, not God, and the second that they assert that America is "the best." I don't agree with either of those things and both things make me feel uncomfortable.

That said, I do think it is appropriate to mention in prayers, and the like, gratitude for living in the country in which one resides. I think we should thank God for all our blessings: life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, freedom, traffic laws, and always being able to find brown sugar (or what have you) at the grocery store.

We spent the previous two 4th of Julys in the States and those two fast Sundays were very uncomfortable for me. Andrew was very supportive, stroking my hand and whispering that he agrees with me, not them--that America is good, but not the best. I haven't spent many 4th of Julys in the States, really. Those two and maybe a couple of others. My family actually isn't even in the States right now; they're up in Canada visiting my sister, Abra. They missed out on Canada Day by being in the States and the 4th of July by being in Canada.

Both countries right now, I daresay, are still quite caught up in the revelry of their patriotic holidays: wearing the colors of the flag, watching fireworks, eating traditional foods. And I think that's just fine. Fun, actually. I think it's fun! It is definitely a good thing; but it can go too far, especially when it is taken into the chapel where our thoughts are supposed to be turned specifically to the Lord.

This is our (mine and Andrew's) second 4th of July in Egypt (the first was in 2006) and I just loved our fast and testimony meeting this Friday because it was just like any other fast and testimony meeting. People got up and bore testimony of their Savior and of the gospel and it was wonderful!

One young man in our primary, Josh, got up to bear his testimony and he was on fire. It was short and sweet and as honest as can be. He was sick with an ear ache that wouldn't go away. His mother had tried everything to make him feel better, but nothing was working. Finally, he asked his father for a priesthood blessing. After the blessing he started to feel better.

"I think," he said, swallowing the sob growing in his throat, while a few rogue tears sneaked through, "That the priesthood is a really good thing for us."

Then he closed his testimony. That was it. He thinks the priesthood is a really good thing for us. And he thinks it with all of his heart. I would venture to say that, not only does he think or believe, he knows. The spirit he brought into the room with his testimony was impressively strong.

And I sat there, thinking about how glad I was to be an American.* Me!

I, who have been accused of being unpatriotic and un-American! I sat there and thought that.

I thought about how privileged I am to be able to live here and still attend the church of my choice without persecution from my neighbours...or the government...even though we aren't a recognized denomination here. I thought about how privileged I am to have my freedoms and rights as an American be protected for me, even in countries that don't necessarily have those same freedoms and rights.

If I was born an Egyptian I wouldn't have those same rights. I wouldn't be able to speak out against the policies of my government or write my own idea on a ballot if I didn't like the choices offered to me or go to the church of my choice. I do live a rather privileged life here, and everywhere, because of the freedoms with which I've been blessed. And I'm definitely grateful for that!

*Alright, so if I'm going to be completely honest, I thought about how lucky I was to be a "Westerner" (because Canada and much of Europe and other parts of the world that aren't even Western (like Japan and South Korea) are just as free as the States and their rights (which are basically the same as the rights of Americans) are also somewhat protected abroad). But America was included in my thoughts, even though I feel no less-free in, say, Canada than I do in America.

Also, I have a song by Arrogant Worms stuck in my head right now because of the title of the post...even though the title of the post isn't even related to the song at all. "Forgive us, we're Canadian, we try hard to be nice! You, too, can be Canadian if you follow this advice..."

"Don't hate me, I'm American" fits into that line perfectly, though. So now I'm singing. Actually, since the song is so great, here are the words:

We always say we’re sorry, we like to stand in line.
When you ask us how we’re doing, we always say “Just fine!”
Forgive us we’re Canadian, we try hard to be nice.
You too can be Canadian if you follow this advice.

We disagree on everything but we try to be polite
and we don’t believe in violence, except on hockey night.
We’ve adopted European ways, replacing yards with meters,
but we still must ask the question, how many miles in a litre?

Forgive us we’re Canadian, we try hard to be nice.
You too can be Canadian if you follow this advice.

We could talk for hours on end about the constitution,
which is dry as toast but sure as heck beats war or revolution!
We don’t much like to wave the flag, we find patriotism shocking.
So we celebrate on Canada day by going cross-border shopping.

Forgive us we’re Canadian, we try hard to be nice.
You too can be Canadian if you follow this advice.

We know how to dress for winter, we’re not afraid of snow
and we love our country quietly, and hope Quebec won’t go…

Forgive us we’re Canadian, and some might think us bland
But there’s no where that we’d rather live….
Than this vast and frozen land!