To Be An American

I’ve been thinking in the last few weeks about what it really means to be an American. I guess this must have started when the presidential race kicked off in earnest, but it has come up in several conversations and several contexts since that.

Tonight I’m watching one of my favorite television personalities, Craig Ferguson, as he performs his nightly comedic monologue. The theme tonight revolves around the fact that on Friday, he became an American citizen. Citizenship is something that Ferguson has alluded to numerous times before, light-heartedly feigning a longing. In reality, though, he was longing. And now, he is very proud – you can see it in his eyes and hear it in the way he talks. I forget sometimes that my natural born status is something other people, even famous people, will stand in line to obtain. It appears that a sense of belonging was a large part of the motivation for Craig Ferguson.

Over two hundred years ago people stood in line to fight for the chance to start this whole experiment. Knowing that the fight could end their lives, and knowing that defeat would mean the end of their dream of self-rule, they stepped up, willing to risk their lives simply to have the chance to live in a sovereign nation. For them, self-rule was the motivation.

Even the simple physical reality of being here, in America, is such a dear prize that people will break the law and come here illegally, risking being caught, risking their safety and often risking even their lives to do so. Is it all about simple economics and the chance to make more money than back at home? Some would have us believe that it is, but I think for these people who risk so much to just be here, in our presence, something more motivates them.

Around a century and a half ago, some of my ancestors left on a trip to a much younger America. For them it was a destination half a world away, of which they knew very little. They came here to start a life, not knowing how it would work out. To them being an American represented “the main chance” at a better way of life. While there certainly were financial considerations, one of my forebears supposedly left Ireland in the early 1800′s in order to avoid entering the clergy, which apparently was a foregone conclusion for him. Although he did choose a different path in life, there’s little, before or since, to suggest monetary motives. I think that the chance of self determination was the motive in his case.

Other examples are nearly limitless.

Painters and poets come to America, skateboarders and sculptors choose to make this their home. For them, self expression is the motivator.

Dutch Reformed, German Jews, Russian Orthodox, Irish Catholics, Norwegian Lutherans, all come here to create a home, raise their children and worship as they see fit. Religious freedom calls them to America.

Speaking of different religions and nationalities, back to Craig Ferguson. He ended his program tonight by taking the musical stage with a group called the Wicked Tinkers, a Scottish pipe and drum outfit. Craig beat a drum in true Scottish form, proclaiming that he was doing this to assure his Scottish brethren that he wouldn’t stop being Scottish now that he was American.

Although that is technically incorrect, it is a very natural statement for a person to make. We are indeed a melting pot, but often we each try to keep our little part of the melt at least somewhat intact. This is evidenced in the number of various clubs and groups based on ancestral nationality and heritage (Italian clubs, Irish clubs, German clubs, etc.), fraternal groups (Eagles, Oddfellows, Elks Lodge, Moose Lodge, etc).

For me, to be an American means that you are fortunate to be blessed with opportunities that no other place on Earth can match, but you are also the bearer of heavy responsibility to make something useful of those opportunities. What do you think?