First, an event endorsement:
Anti-War July 4th
5:30pm-9:00pm
Picnic hosted by the UT anti-war group, free food and speakers. Contact: antiwarcampus@yahoo.com
I spent a long time trying to write something appropriate for this holiday, and all I could come up with was a long confused soliloquy not worth printing. Patriotic holidays like this make my soul shift around too much.
What has this nation become? Our twice-elected leaders endorse torture and military occupation for plunder. Our business leaders have committed themselves to cold-blooded greed, and bleeding every last cent they can from working people around the world, even and especially if it means cooperating with dictators and anti-democratic regimes. Our culture has become a wasteland, petty and pornographic, guided by shallow excess and consumerism based on mountains of debt.
When I think of America on this holiday, the first images that come streaming into consciousness are SUV sale advetisements covered with American flags. Or any sale for that matter. I wonder if this is what it all ultimately boils down to. And I also see the images from photographs, of Iraqi children with their arms burned off from our bombing campaigns, of bodies heaped up at El Mozote in El Salvador back in the 80s. Or those torture pictures of Iraq, of men being brutalized next to smiling folks I could have met in a bar. Is this what it is, is this what it means to be American? That at the end of the day we're just gangsters of the world, a shabby-coated pseudo-empire?
But I also see people burn their lives out trying to fight the evils that govern this society, and I see the warmth of people bound in conviviality and community, ad I wonder if there's a place in America for that too, that righteousness and that brotherly love. At the back and base of everything, when the world seems so corrupt you just wake up disgusted with everything (including yourself for being a part of it), beneath it all this lingering feeling, this spark of hope that you catch every now and then through someone else's eyes; that you see in the strength and spirit of heroic men and women who fight and fight and never stop despite the world bearing down upon them.
So this is what I feel now on this Fourth of July, waves of corruption mixed with powerful pulses of hope. On that note, some pure words to leave you with:
"Let America Be America Again" by Langston Hughes
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed-- Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There's never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars. I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek-- And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.
I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one's own greed!
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the Negro, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean-- Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers! I am the man who never got ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years.
Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That's made America the land it has become. O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas In search of what I meant to be my home-- For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore, And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea, And torn from Black Africa's strand I came To build a "homeland of the free."
The free?
Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we've dreamed And all the songs we've sung And all the hopes we've held And all the flags we've hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay-- Except the dream that's almost dead today.
O, let America be America again-- The land that never has been yet-- And yet must be--the land where every man is free. The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME-- Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose-- The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people's lives, We must take back our land again, America!
O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me, And yet I swear this oath-- America will be!
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain-- All, all the stretch of these great green states-- And make America again!