Fourth of July (written 7/4/2020)

My heart is heavy today - this is the first 4th in a while that I have not gone to Iowa to celebrate the 4th with my family in Iowa. From a young age - we would drive the 12-14 hours from Newark, Ohio to Exira, Iowa. Spending time on my grandparents' farms seeing cousins, aunts, uncles and extended family. We congregated there for many reasons, but Exira will celebrate its 155th year this year of the 4th of July Celebration.  

This is a town of farmers - people who worked the land to make a living. Many of these farmers came from farmers - not many of them had educations beyond 8th grade. They worked and shared and created a community where I could walk to the local grocery and ask them to put the items I purchased on my grandma's bill. My memories are of waking with the 6am cannon shot - getting ready in my red, white and blue for the parade - spending time at one grandparent's farm a ways from town, or at the others, right at the edge of town. Walking through a cornfield or riding in the back of a pickup truck to sit on someone's lawn to watch the parade, full of tractors, horses, cars, floats, and often a grill serving up pieces of pork or beef from the surrounding farms. There was a family gathering - a potluck of food - and then we'd head uptown to the carnival - ride some rides or stroll through town - then we'd gather either at the High school or at my other grandparent's farm and get a front row seat to a fireworks display first funded by different townspeople and then by recycling aluminum cans (which I think go for 10 cents a piece uncrushed these days). The end of the night was a bonfire - we'd sing and make s'mores and head to bed so late. I'm not sure my family was super patriotic - but this is a long lasting memory.

Today I am crying - a lot. My heart aching. I know what the Fourth of July means to white people - I think I know what it means for black people and I think know what it means for people of color. I know that it ignores the people whose land was lost to the settlers. This isn't because I just woke up in the last few weeks - it is because I am a student of history. I consider myself a historian. I have read our founding documents, I know what they included, and excluded. I know we have changed over time - but I know we have so far to go.

Maybe I am like you - struggling with what this all means.

Maybe I am like you - and more aware of my whiteness.

Maybe I am like you - and want us to be able to aspire to those great words of the Declaration of Independence

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

I type these words while people protest that Black Lives Matter

I type these words while people try to protect sacred lands

I type these words while people who believe this country holds better opportunities for them and their children, sit in cages.

I type these words while white people wrestle with what can I do?

I hope you - like me - will continue to be curious - look at the what, when, where, why and how?

I hope you - like me - will wrestle with your own stories with compassion.

I hope you - like me - will continue to look for ways to show up in the world with open minds and open hearts.