I
Two weeks ago, I had the privilege of spending eight days on the east coast -- four in Boston and four in Washington, D.C. The primary goal was to visit a few good friends of mine who live over there. We enjoyed ourselves and this was safely achieved. The secondary goal, meanwhile, was to finally tour and reflect upon two important American cities.
What was I in for? What would I see? How would I feel? I wasn't sure.
Shortly after landing at Logan International Airport, my friend and I drove up to the White Mountains in New Hampshire to do some hiking. As a Midwesterner, I am more familiar with plains and prairies than rolling hills and ancient Appalachian mountains. That first day was tiring but fun. The Appalachians aren't as immediately menacing and magnificent as the Rockies, but they absolutely are as charming. Also, the surrounding fall foliage is every bit as spectacular in New England as people say.
For all intents and purposes, however, my pursuit of the secondary goal began upon glimpsing the Bunker Hill monument in Charlestown, Massachusetts. I began thus walking from one end of the Freedom Trail toward the other (at Boston Common), lightly sensing how an important slice of American history lingered around me the entire way, effused in the air and soil.
Over the course of mere hours, the sites along the trail overwhelmed my imagination. Reposed at Copp's Hill Burying Ground are thousands of Massachusetts Bay colonists, a couple of whom were born in the 1500s. Two fateful lanterns hung in the steeple of Old North Church on April 18, 1775, set in motion a midnight ride and the awakenings of a revolutionary war. A lowly circular arrangement of cobblestone outside the Old State House designates the location of the Boston Massacre. Those are but a select few.
Days chained together quickly. I explored as much of Boston as I could by foot before embarking southward on a Northeast Regional Amtrak train. Consequently dropped off at Union Station in Washington, D.C, I went about walking there, too.
Washington was likewise a revelation. The grandeur of the National Mall as well as its surrounding buildings can hardly be overstated. I didn't get the chance to view the Capitol rotunda from the inside, but its imposing exterior is impressive regardless. The Washington Monument lies in the center of the Mall, a minimalist obelisk reminiscent of a panopticon. The World War II memorial brought me to tears; walking through the Vietnam Veterans Memorial was poignant.
The Lincoln Memorial is my favorite of all. Looking up at Abraham Lincoln's fatherly gaze, as sculpted by Daniel Chester French, put my mind at ease in a way that is all but inexplicable. Etched in the walls, flanking him, are the Gettysburg and second inaugural addresses, two of the greatest oratory feats in the history of the United States and, I would argue, that of the English language.
I had a pleasant time using both cities' train systems, MBTA and WMATA. The Boston Red Line crosses the Charles River to/from Cambridge which is absolutely gorgeous to view. The architecture of the Washington Metro is stunning. The wait times I experienced in both cities was highly reasonable and even an improvement over Chicago's CTA.
My friends were wonderful for hosting me; I already miss them again. Albeit civic rather than religious, I am grateful to have taken part in as close to a pilgrimage as I will ever know.
II
As my eyes rarely stopped soaking in interesting views over the course of the week, my mind rarely stopped considering the whole of America and my miniscule place in it. Incessantly, I was draped in a feeling of insignificance. Thousands, if not millions, of people's lives, past and present, were indirectly represented in every edifice I saw. The scale is immense.
The shape of America's history, evolution, identity, self-perception, and therefore a partial reflection of my own, never before seemed so close and clear but also equally distant and opaque. Contradictions formulated and resolved at once. Past scenes of hatred and violence melded into the topography, as did ones of commitment and community.
At the heart of it all, I saw us. Yes, certainly, these carefully crafted shrines are in tribute to those men and women who upheld, better than most, our nation's ideals and they deserve to be honored. But these are only symbols; they, of course, are gone. One may astutely observe that it is not Lincoln himself who sits atop the pedestal, but rather nothing more than an unusually shaped block of marble.
We, the living observers, the vanguard of this project, are ever instrumental to their hard-earned success. We must continually imbue the symbols with meaning, re-tell the mythology, and regard our burden with humility and solemnity. Else, the rock is left to unceremoniously crumble.
Be it through the long-term strength of liberal democracy or sheer dumb luck [1], the United States, between the events commemorated on the Freedom Trail and now, expanded its national identity to encompass a multicultural, immigration-driven populace. It did so predicated on the values of freedom and equality. I believe it is in this spirit that our future salvation lies.
I no longer think that we live in unprecedented times. American history is fraught with social unrest, up to and including a civil war. Injustice, exploitation of labor, economic malaise, the list goes on. The country has been through quite a lot to get to where it is today, i.e. the premier global superpower. Maybe we don't deserve that mantle, as some think, or maybe we should retract from the responsibilities of that role, as others think. Regardless, America is as powerful as she is in spite of dark moments. She is powerful because she overcame dark moments. In certain times of turmoil, she harkened back to the words in our founding documents. In other times of turmoil, she added new ones to them.
The Declaration of Independence, the original Constitution, and the Bill of Rights are all famously brief [2]. Further, their meaning is not always precise (even in sometimes critical sections). However, their sense of direction is unmistakable. The vision they propose for American society is unmistakable: to treat one another as equals, to repudiate tyrants in whatever form they appear, and to pass on across generations the ideals of a free people such that we may form a more perfect union.
With that said, lofty ideals don't often translate to easy solutions to our problems. We face in this country an epistemic implosion. Two separate political factions mostly operate in divorced spheres of information. Our ability to compromise, a crucial element of democracy, is weaker in this arrangement. The value of truth itself is weaker in this arrangement. In these divorced spheres, we've progressively learned to hate one another because of our frustrations and miscommunications. We increasingly wish to subjugate one another in both the political and cultural arenas.
Other Americans are not enemies of mine. Just because some view the world differently than I does not mean they hate this country and want to destroy it. There's a lot of that going around nowadays; I detest that notion and steadfastly refuse it. Hatred, resentment, contempt are not qualities I think of when I consider what made and makes America great. In that vein, I wonder what it will take to restore a cohesive and unitary national identity. Right now, it is fractured. We don't have much middle ground; our political discussions are polarized.
Our public decorum has rapidly deteriorated. We see one another as threats to our own liberty. In a perverse irony, we both evoke the lessons of our founding fathers to claim authority and moral superiority over the other. Quite the family situation, isn't it? We each ponder for the first time if a house divided against itself cannot stand.
I cannot envision this situation improving until our two spheres once again recombine, on equal grounds. If truth is a many-sided prism, liberal and conservative viewpoints are merely angles of perception. None of us see the whole; we better understand the bigger picture together rather than apart.
I do not feel that this country is at risk of imminent destruction. Admittedly, this is partially because simply I cannot fathom it. The relationship, already strained, may get worse before it gets better, but I have confidence that Americans will meet the demands of the moment and strengthen our bonds once more. So far in our country's history, we've always found a way to do so.
That isn't to say we aren't vulnerable right now. We absolutely are. But we still possess a weapon that many citizens in other parts of the world dream of but cannot equip: the force of a free, honest dialogue. In the long run, we are buoyed because the most formidable ideas, the greatest of principles, the best of ourselves rise to the top and shine through.
On the eve of my return home, my girlfriend asked me if I felt more American having completed this trip. My answer was no. I sensed, more than anything, a call to action [3]. Complacency will not do. I also sensed the renewed insight that our way out of this mess need not be complicated at all. We erect monuments for and glorify people who embody American unity and progress. Any one of us is, nay, all of us are capable of that. That is something we know how to do in our blood. It's our birthright and heritage.
III
The presidential election on Tuesday did not conclude with the result I wanted. Already, my mind is spinning from the implications of a second Donald Trump presidential term. With respect to climate change, foreign policy, civil service, the Supreme Court, legislative rollback, corruption, etc., everything is on the table. For better or for worse, all of it is subject to change.
Nevertheless, a new opportunity is arisen to re-evaluate a small but mighty fact: there is a meaningful fragment of the American political landscape that I cannot see. Trump's popularity has increased in the last four years, not decreased. That is much cause for introspection and understanding.
My sentiments expressed in the previous section, drafted before election day, are unchanged by the news. If I learned anything during my stay, it's that this rodeo is larger than any one individual or age. I am as assured as ever that good old-fashioned persuasion will once again have its day.
If a realignment really is happening, and the initial evidence indicates it is, then we enter a new political order at the onset of which party platforms will considerably shift, America's vision for itself and the world will be renegotiated, and dynamic leaders will win the day. In a democracy, you have to be a player. [4]
[1] Rest in peace, Maggie Smith. [link]
[2] I spent ten minutes, at most, peering at them in the National Archives Museum. In fact, with due respect, I was underwhelmed by their presence. The parchment was surprisingly meaningless to me.
[3] the millionth or so of those
[4] [link]