The kind of Americanism that wastes itself on bigotry and war is on its way out. You can hear the last of it in the mewls of the Trumps and pharisees. Good riddance.
The kind of Americanism that obstucts a President because he is black, not because he is idealogue, is also fading fast. I say a prompt good-bye to that, and shut the door firmly behind it.
Americanism and - for my sense, religion - that seeks to separate instead of unite, to burn instead of to heal, can go suck it, too. I'm done with that.
The old American is gone. This middling child is aging too. And so a new American steps forward. And what will he do?
He can't be the risk-taker his forefather was - that chance was already taken in his name, so he wouldn't have to. Ironically, the country is no longer comprised of the very people some label global discards, so there's been a bit of mission drift. Do we still primarily seek to take in the tired, the hungry, the poor? It seems in many instances we are not.
We are now the fat and comfortable.
But we are also the environmentally interested, the urban farmer, the cyclist. We are a half-shade of brown, we've tasted curry and we like it, our music thumps. We care if we are cheated, yes, but we are also wary of war. We prepare with irony. We feast on an engaged faith.
The new American knows that the money comes and goes, not always at her own will, and she doesn't care. Really. She finds disinterest in my bedroom habits, cares not to judge me, won't allow it as she knows what is just.
It is a slow turn, to be sure. Still, the new American finds that we grow not just for our own bloom, but for others'. He is willing to share.
The New American is a different kind of smart. He reclaims the simpler ways using the tools of the day, always seeking the better solution. In that manner, he is like his father, in all his best.
This American, borne of the children of jumpers and poors, can write it new. He will, he will. I know he will.
Give us your tired, your hungry, your poor. And together, what can we do?