How it is that I can love my country, while at the same time feel rejected and betrayed by her. How can I feel a sense of true patriotism, while at the same time feel like an “angry black woman?”
Considering the current incendiary socio-political and racial climate in America, it’s quite hard to define my patriotism, at least by the descriptors that most would expect.
Honestly, I have never deeply examined
what that concept means to me as an
African American. Patriotism always
felt like an abstraction. A construct
touted by white, male republican
political candidates to make them
seem more “American” than their
opponent. To me, demonstrating
patriotism was more like a pre-
programmed exercise of nostalgic
pride performed every July 4th, or
when the anthem is played at a
porting event or every 4 years when
the Olympics came around. I
participated because since toddler-
hood I was taught that’s what all “good Americans” are supposed to do, yet never stopping to examine where I actually fit into
this patriotic paradigm.
I sought out the Merriam-Webster dictionary online to at least start with a definition. It reads “Love for or devotion to one’s country.” The definition is quite simple, yet as I repeated the words in an effort to tap into my patriotic feelings the layers reflecting the complexity of this “relationship” were revealed. After much self-reflection, the strongest position I can articulate is that I do not hate America. Yes I am mad at her, furious even, and yes I still believe this to be a great nation. However, America simply has not always been great for everyone, especially black people. So what I can say regarding “love of country” is that any love I have is rooted less in blind allegiance and more in a hope that the inalienable promise of America for all people is one day realized. Yet, even with its faults the fact remains that America is still my home and I will most likely grow old and die here.
San Francisco 49ers Colin Kaepernick
CBS Sports.com