Foreword
What do you do on the Fourth of July when you are deeply concerned for the future of your country? Brian argues there is no need to pretend the problems aren’t real nor give up the Stars and Stripes as lost. Instead, he encourages us to celebrate the country we still dream of making together. I’ll toast to that.
-Katie Shaw Thompson
It doesn't feel easy to celebrate the Fourth of July this year. I have mixed feelings about it. And yet Elgin’s Fourth of July parade will pass by my house this morning. We’ll cheer from the porch and wave as it rolls through the streets of Elgin. We’ll gather with neighbors. I’ll make pancakes. We have mimosas and Bloody Marys on the front lawn. I intend to celebrate what makes this country actually great.
Not perfect—never perfect—but great all along.
In front of my house, two flags fly. The bright colors of the Pride flag. And the stars and stripes of the American flag.
Sometimes, people give me flak for the latter. Not many would confront me about the former—not if they know what’s good for them.
But the truth is: I refuse to concede the symbolism of my country.
I believe in what that flag is supposed to mean:
Justice.
Rule of law.
Government by the people, for the people.
Democracy.
Accountability.
Possibility.
Those ideals have not always been honored—but they are still worth fighting for. And they do not belong to fascists, nor to those who would wrap themselves in the symbols while gutting the substance.
Today, I will celebrate my community. Elgin is home. And Elgin will endure. I’ll see to that.
But I will also celebrate my country—not in blind patriotism, but in fierce, hopeful defiance.
Let the parade, the fireworks, every backyard BBQ and family picnic—let them all be reminders this year of what we are fighting for. Let them stir something deeper than nostalgia.
Because this great American experiment is still alive.
And we will not let it perish from the earth.
You embody the warm hearth! <3