On this Columbus Day…
I just received an email from a website that I knew nothing about. It is called “Define American.com.” That title posited a challenge. I am a native born citizen, a sporadically fair-minded writer, and well past the age of discernment. I must know something. But I quickly scanned my memory banks and found nothing that had merit or meaning to me as a citizen of my country. I know people that I admire, but their traits and characteristics define them, not me. So I resorted to the standard list of inquiries: who, what, when, where, why, and how do I define myself? Again, I drew a blank. Whatever I may think of myself surely cannot define my connection to my native land. It had to go deeper, tap into my core values, and make a profound statement about me and us, me and the strongest connections that define my relationship with the land of my birth, the country I defended, where my children were born, and where I want to make my final resting place when I am gone.
Then the words of Emma Lazarus came into my consciousness: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me: I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”
I Google checked on my memory, and I was delighted that I recalled every word almost exactly as she had written them. Yes, that magnificent poem was my starting place.
I was pleased that my random thoughts had pulled out the notion that we are a nation of immigrants, and not something about wealth, or achievements by a few, or about famous people. My next thoughts were about the 1 million native men and women who lived here in the early days when the European settlers arrived. My brain quickly went to the realization that the settlers were not seeking religious freedom as much as they were running from religious persecution. And they were greeted with kindness and caring by the Native Americans living here. What a contrast with today!
Something was stirring in my soul. First, was a gifted writer who wrote poetry that captured the essence of freedom; then came immigrants who were seeking a new place in which to live and to pursue their dreams free from religious persecution. Yes, those were also my core values because I had spent my entire life in search of the same ends. But the search goes on because we surely have less freedom today than did our ancestors in 1620.
Then Jefferson’s words came to mind: equality, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Those are stirring words, especially from a wealthy man who owned slaves. In spite of his fame, he must have lived a somewhat tortured life because he fell in love with one of his slaves, and they had children together. Apparently he treated her with honor, although he could not be open about her or their relationship.
I have been fortunate to have traveled in nearly all the 50 states. Each has its own special distinction. The oceans that enclose us are glorious, the mountains are statuesque, the miles of acreage feed us, while the lakes and streams cool and refresh us. There are many features about this beautiful land that elicit pleasure and pride in me. But in the 500+ years since Columbus arrived, we have ravaged the land; engaged in disgraceful treatment of large portions of our people based on race; created much wealth and siphoned it from the many and directed it to the few; and we are engaging in hypocrisy in our politics, in our immigration policies, and in our treatment with a wider segment of our population—the poor.
In short, virtually all the things I value are being destroyed or they are eroding into a withered mess. Still, I am not answerable to Define American or to the founders of any website. I am answerable to my forebears, to my children, and to all future generations. What can I say to them?
My thoughts are these: Treat the land with kindness. It’s the only home we have. That task is easier than we might think at first. The land is self-replenishing if we give it room to breathe. Treat each other with kindness. We are each other’s family. We are also self-fulfilling if we only give each of us room to breathe free, to learn, and to grow. Take care that we honor our selves by seeking to embrace excellence in all that we do. That is how we honor the gift of life. And, yes, send us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. We are at a tipping point, and we need new teachers to remind us about our values. Immigrants know that lesson well. Perhaps it is only by accepting those who have lived impoverished lives, yet who long for a better future, that we might find ourselves once again.
The Native Americans at the time of the first Europeans coming certainly did value the land much more so than we seem to with our constant remaking of it and wanton destruction of it to extract wealth that is distributed primarily to those who somehow "own" it. However, the natives were not all naïve, benign and friendly.
Archaeology has shown that tribes were very territorial and, while they traded peacefully, were also very warlike. There is evidence that the Aztec empire reached all the way to southern Wisconsin where a wooden fort has been excavated. And, in some cases, religious beliefs like those of the Mayan and Aztecs were also quite brutal and corrupt.
But, like your article so eloquently describes, it is the better part of life that we remember, hold dear and hope will win out in the future.
Ron