One recent Sunday morning, while we were spending a wonderful weekend in Memphis, my husband was flopped on the bed of our hotel room watching TV. Being a news junkie, and because the only other things on TV on Sunday mornings are infomercials and televangelists, he was watching C-SPAN. The guest that day was Lee Bandy, a palsied older man who is the chief correspondent for The State newspaper in Columbia, S.C. Mr. Bandy was there to speak about the recent debate among the nine Democratic presidential candidates that had taken place in South Carolina in early May.
I wasn't paying much attention as I ran around the hotel room gathering my things, but one caller caught my ear. A young man from Ohio seemed agitated that more wasn't being said about the candidates' stances on the war in Iraq, and he wondered why this wasn't a bigger issue in the debate. Mr. Bandy let out a slight chuckle before he answered, "Everybody keeps talking about the war. Here in South Carolina, we are very patriotic. We tend to support candidates who are pro-defense, pro-military." Two thoughts went through my mind in quick succession. First, that Mr. Bandy, who had twice in the last 20 minutes declined to reveal his political affiliation to preserve his journalistic integrity, had just outed himself. And second, that once again patriotism was wrongly being equated with a pro-war stance.
I happen to be a liberal Democrat who also happens to consider herself patriotic. Patriotism, as defined by Merriam-Webster, is "love or devotion to one's country." I do love this country; I am fully aware and appreciative of all of our privileges and advantages. I also have the utmost respect and admiration for the individuals in our military fighting to preserve them. However, I believe that to truly love anything, or anyone, you have to acknowledge all of it, the good and the bad. You have to question things you don't understand and try to change the things you don't agree with. Otherwise, what good is democracy?
In recent weeks, the public has learned that we were likely "misled" by the Bush administration as to their evidence of weapons of mass destruction. As of this writing, none have been found. There is no proof that Saddam Hussein has been killed, Bin Laden is still at large, and the terrorist attacks against American citizens have not ended. Lives were lost on both sides. We have severely injured our relations with nations that were once our allies. And, yet, the people who questioned this war are still labeled unpatriotic.
Patriotism is not following blindly behind an (un)elected leader, agreeing with all of his decisions simply because you think you should. Patriotism is not flying a tattered American flag from your car antenna, or tying a big yellow ribbon to your front door. But, most of all, patriotism is not the desire to attack or condemn anyone who doesn't think, look or act like you. Remember that all of our families, unless you're Native American, were immigrants at one time, and with just a small twist of fate, you could have been born and raised in any of these other countries that we now feel we have the right to invade.
Patriotism, to me, is the desire to make your country better by making yourself and your little corner of the world better. It is educating yourself, not just academically, but socially and culturally. It is reading, going to museums, art exhibits, the symphony. It is learning about history—our own and that of other countries. It is exploring different cultures and religions so that we can understand where others are coming from, even if we won't ever agree with them. And respecting their right to have their beliefs and disagree with yours. It is helping others as much as possible: donating your time or your money, or both, to causes you believe in. Mentoring a child, teaching someone to read. Doing anything we can do to improve our community and inspiring others to do same so that it will grow outwardly. And most important, it means voting in every election, regional and national. Voting is the most patriotic thing we can do: the only way to make our voices heard and maybe, one day, to change the world.
Shainna Brooks is a transplanted Mississippian from Baton Rouge, La., and is moving to South Carolina this summer.