So, it's the 4th of July... everywhere actually, well except for the far east, since it is in fact the 5th. But I'm getting off track and so soon too. Stateside, it is the day of Independence from England and a time to celebrate 'Merica. Am I a gung-ho fourther? Nope, not in the least. As a kid I enjoyed the holiday strictly for the grilled food and fireworks and possibly a day of swimming, depending on the year. Was I ever salutin' the flag or being all happy about 'Merica? Never. I've never been a very patriotic person, not even as a kid. It's just not in me to be that person. While I have always been fascinated by Colonial America, specifically the 1750s-1780s, and was interested in the Revolutionary War, I never connected the two, personally, with Independence Day. I know that we were celebrating something to do with The Revolutionary War and being American, to later knowing that it was only the symbolic signing of the Declaration of Independence, which was the Patriot version of a big fuck you to England. Patriots who were English, but would later become American. It's just I never cared much for the big 'fuck you' so to speak, so to me it just wasn't important in the grand scheme of enjoyable learning about that war or that time period, nor me getting to watch fireworks in the middle of summer. It's like Christmas. Growing up, I didn't realize that these were Pagan ideals and rituals that the Catholics took in order to get more followers. That certain of their gods had important dates on the 25th of December. While I knew that this was supposed to be the birth of Jesus, did I care? Not in the least. I wanted a tree in the house all decorated prettily, enjoy the smells of holiday baking, go to Christmas parties; and I wanted to ride around in the car and ooh and ahh at the twinkle lights. Oh and presents are awesome! To me, Christmas has never had anything to do with Jesus, even though I was raised in a Christian household. I was raised here in America, but I don't really feel any strong ties or pride to this country and never thought about celebrating it, merely just celebrating the gloriousness or the unexpected and random, since things done on the 4th of July here aren't every day occurrences. Do I still get excited to see fireworks? Absolutely! Do I go out of my way to smoosh myself in with throngs of humans to watch them? No, I do not. And that's about the importance of the 4th of July for me; a happenstance to see some fireworks on a random day during the summer. I have read a lot about this time period, learning most of what I know on my own, because the school system is all America. Seriously, they might state that the patriots were English, but they don't put an emphasis on it. These were white Americans being treated badly by the stupid English and who the fuck cares about mentioning the African enslaved or those "savages" who were here first. How is any of that helpful? So, of course I'd learn more on my own. With the mentality of being an English person living thousands of miles from normality and having carved out an existence for myself in this new world, plus the fact that I don't like people telling me what to do, I more than likely would have sided with the Patriots and told the Loyalists to go and fuck themselves. I don't think I'd be gung-ho for stringing any Loyalists up or just jumping on the band wagon to torment or lock them up, because that's not who I am, but who knows for certain, right? As a girl in the twentieth century learning the historical facts from both sides and not here say or crossed connections like in the eighteenth century, well that's a bit of a sticky wicket. For one, I'm not a patriotic person, so I don't seem to be the type of person to cling to a birth country, nor do I follow easily, so I probably wouldn't be the type of person to serve my King and country no matter what. While I feel badly for Farmer George (King George III) and know that advisors on both sides of the Atlantic were fucking shit up for their own personal gains (something I doubt I'd be privy to know during the time), I really can't help but think that the Patriots were rather like petulant children. But then the Loyalists seemed snobby for the most part. I've thought about it a lot and if I wasn't already living alone in the mountains away from people, this would be the time that I'd have told both groups to take a short walk off of a long pier and I would have packed up and moved into the mountains. I suppose I'd be a trading post person, because I know I couldn't have trapped animals and skinned them for their fur, nor could I have just hunted them for the meat to have and sell. But, I'll buy your skins and meat and sell them. I could do that. I totally think I would be the person who would have just gone wild. No laws, no formal dress (I want to wear it because I've never worn it, but I know that it were forced upon me, I'd refuse and dress like a man), being the dainty, proper lady, being groomed only to please a man, run his household and birth and raise his children. Nope. That's not me. I'd rather go it alone in the wilderness, being the tough girl dressed like a man, binding my breasts so I can look more like a man, living a life meted out by me and no one else. In which case, England or independence from, would mean about as much to me in that lifetime as it does in this one; which is to mean absolutely nothing. And that's just if I were English in the first place. What if I were French? I could keep living a wilderness life up in Canada and wouldn't care. Or what if I were of an Indigenous tribe that was right in the midst of all this English nonsense? Well, then I'd want to be one of the tribes that were warriors, because I'd want to fight. But who to join? I'd probably join the French (who hated England so fought for the Patriots/future Americans)... but I might want to have joined up with the Hessians (Germans, who fought with the Loyalists/England). Why wouldn't I just be French, fighting with the French for the Patriots or a Hessian, fighting for the English? Because rules, man. As a European in service to whichever military, you'd follow all of their rules. As an Indigenous person fighting because there are Europeans on your land and you just want to side yourself with one who might keep other Europeans out and give you what you want seems like a better reason to fight in and of itself. Then there's also the point that for the most part there were no rules for you. Obviously if I joined with the French, I couldn't kill French troops, nor the Americans they were sided with, but I didn't have to follow their stringent military tactics and techniques. They wanted the Indigenous on their sides so as to have the benefit of guerrilla warfare so to speak. I'd get to fight the way I know, and not forming lines and walking forward or having to deal with any other nonsense of protocol. I'd have the cover of the trees and could strike any enemy threat without direct orders. Sounds more fun, right? You betcha! And depending upon your belief in past lives or not, I might just have done that last bit. I obviously have no proof, but I have very strong feelings that it's a combination of the above scenarios. A girl who broke free, living as a man in the wilds, European nationality not important nor known, being included with a tribe who decided to fight for the French probably. I probably didn't make it out of that war alive, but I think I fought a good fight. So, a big ole Stars and Stripes may be billowing in the breeze out the second floor window of my house today, and I may have been born and raise in this country in this lifetime, and swimming will happen today and perhaps errant sightings of fireworks, but I'm the type of person who could easily pack it all up and move to a different country and never look back on the time that I was an American. Besides the flag flying from my second story is not of my doing. Nor is owning a flag or the pole for it in the first place. That's all dad. I do think that dad, in his older age, shifts towards ultra patriotism from time to time, and not of his own doing, because I really do believe he is being brainwashed by super conservative talk radio and news channels. But even taking that away, I do believe that dad, deep down in his soul, really is a patriotic person. He might not be the type to constantly wave a flag or shout "'Merica!!", but he really likes this country and that flag. He likes to fly it on flag day and the 4th of July. I can practically see the little five-year-old boy he once was, really liking the flag, giving it respect, almost like he remembers all of the battles he's fought in before. It's a quite and solemn type of pride that he has, but it is there. And though he might claim his 1950's American upbringing of all the God and American that was shoved down school children's throats (my word, not his), you can feel that the reality is something else entirely. Like he'd still be this person, the person he really is on the inside, had he been born in the 1890s, when no one was super patriotic. Not to knock the power of the mid-century brainwashing as I'm certain that it helps the current conservative brainwashing seep in easier, but that's a whole different kettle of fish right there. But, I'm not this person, not even deep down inside. Not with my pledging allegience as a school child, though I found it to be a tedious morning task, nor saluting to these colours with my hand over my heart. I simply feel that this flag has been overdone and run into the ground. They'll line medians with miniature one's and just about every business or government building has one flying, not to mention all of the apparel and things you can have with it emblazened on the surface. I remember having a sort of conversation with a friend of mine once. He was stating that something was as American as baseball. 'I don't like baseball.' "...well is as American as apple pie. 'I don't like apple pie either.' To which he laughed a hearty laugh and exclaimed, "Let me guess, you don't like your mother either?" 'Bingo!' To which he laughed some more. I never asked him and we never discussed it, but I'm pretty certain that he wasn't a very patriotic person either. I do hate baseball (one could count football in that too - not futball which we call soccer, and not rules football like they play in Australia which is more like rugby, I think), apple pie, and anything else that's super American like loving your mother (I don't hate her, but I'm not a fan let's say) or other things. I'm so un-American in symbols, that I've wonder if this makes me a bad American. I prefer hockey or stickball or even rugby, cricket, or rules football to any typically American (US) sport. I prefer cake or fancy and weird, to me, desserts from foreign countries. I don't even mind people talking about their own national holidays like Canada Day or Bastille Day or anything else. I don't celebrate them, but I find them far more interesting than our national holiday of independence. My idea of celebrating being American would be this Independence Day Vocabulary that was shared from the German Embassy today. "Learning German? Fuck yeah, count me in!" Would I care to say half of this stuff in American English just because it's the 4th of July or any other day? No. But does any of that really matter in the grand scheme of being American, much less being a good or bad American? I think it's a good question that I don't have an answer for really.
I don't love this country and I don't technically love its people in a generalized way. I'm far more interested in everyone else in this world who isn't American. Indigenous Peoples are American, but really they don't lump themselves in with the term as every other non Indigenous person terms it. They're not American, they are Lakota or Choctaw or Arapaho, etc. They are Indigenous or First Nations, or Native American. Yes, they were here first and they'll fight for this land because it's theirs, but for the most part their affiliation with even the American flag or the land or wars is completely different from everyone else's views on the matter. I only live here because this is where I was born and I don't have the funds or knowledge enough to leave. But, if I were born, say in France, would I detest everything I'd grown up with and want to only know more about everything else in the world, including America? I'm honestly not certain. I can't make that correlation because I don't know what it's like to be born French and grow up in France. Perhaps I'd be on board with celebrating the fuck out of Bastille Day and any Frenchisms wouldn't bother me, like American things do. So, I'll ponder more about this, but not today. Today I've learned some new German terms, and I'm about to go swimming, and today is a normal Wednesday and I hope that the weather isn't too gross outside.
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AuthorA girl from South Mississippi who finds herself in exploration. Archives
November 2019
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