You know, yesterday was the Fourth of July, and as it happens, I completely overlooked it until the world started exploding outside my window.
As we sit here in 2026, I realize that the idea of living in America and being an American is probably at its most polarizing in my lifetime. I don't even know how to address what's happening at large, and at the moment, I'm not going to try.
Here's what I can tell you, though: It's about me. It's about what's inside me.
Right out of the gate, I could wax poetic, sociopolitical, or even philosophical about the idea that borders, governments, and political barriers are, in and of themselves, problematic. But we're not going to go there either. I understand why the world is set up the way it is right now, and I'm not expecting it to change anytime soon. The idea of no borders, no money, no suffering, and no struggling is a very utopian, sort of Gene Roddenberry fever dream, and I certainly don't see that happening in my lifetime.
What I can tell you is this: as I look around the country that I happen to live in, I don't know that I have some unwavering pride for the history, organization, and government of this nation. But I do know that I'm honored to know so many people who happen to live here. People who were born here, people whose great-grandparents were born here, and people who moved here last summer. Everyone in between, too.
I'm not here to stand on high and make some dramatic speech about how America is the greatest country in the world and Americans are the greatest people in the world. I'm not here to label this person and that person and myself, wrapping everything in stars and stripes.
I'm here to talk about people.
The people are what make any nation great. They're what make the world worth believing in. I know there are good people and bad people, of course. But the people themselves are what I'm honored to know in this country.
Look, governments have their good and bad, too. We've had shitty politicians, leaders, presidents, senators, and mayors for hundreds of years. We've also had wonderful ones.
The government tries, for whatever it's worth. And I'm not ungrateful for the fact that things could be far, far worse. This isn't North Korea or anything close. So I can have gratitude and appreciation for where I live and for the ways this country functions when it does work. But I can also be critical of the things that don't work and that seem to be getting worse.
So I don't know about American pride, at least not in the traditional sense. I think that might be a concept that's increasingly relegated to nostalgia and blind adherence to a fading philosophy of what a country can and should be.
As we move forward, I'm going to continue to be proud of the people I know. The good people. The wonderful people. And no, they're not some tiny minority. There are millions of wonderful people in this country, just like there are millions of wonderful people around the world. The bad apples, the truly problematic people, they're the minority. Often they're just the loudest. Often they're the ones causing the most damage. I understand that.
So I'm sorry if I'm not wearing a red, white, and blue top hat, launching fireworks, and unfurling a massive American flag from my car this weekend. It's not that I'm ashamed of the people here. It's not that I dislike the good things about this country. I just have concerns right now. I'm watching.
I'm paying attention.
And maybe, just maybe, I can do my own little part to help push things in a direction that I believe is ultimately more beneficial for people as things progress.