Jennifner.com

The fourth of July is upon us once again. For the next week or two, it will become impossible to go outside without being greeted by an olfactory mix of barbecues, bug repellent, and the ever-present smoke and sulfur. We’ll be celebrating the birth of this great nation with full patriotic pomp and circumstance—parades and picnics, floats and flags, candy and crowds.

Yesterday, I went to my city’s annual patriotic celebration. In classic American tradition, this celebration has gotten bigger and better each year since its inception. The closing fireworks were so spectacular that they elicited involuntary “oohs and aahs” from even the most seasoned veterans of firework displays. It was a complete success. But really, does this pyrotechnic event truly symbolize our American identity?

One of the most famous American symbols, the Statue of Liberty, points us in another direction. Written in the pedestal on which the statue stands, is the following invitation:

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Not only does the statue welcome the poor and downtrodden to our country, it does so with an implicit promise that America will become a “land of opportunity” to these people, that circumstances in our country will be markedly better than those they left.

In a country with these ideals, I am puzzled why the patriotism displayed on the fourth of July doesn’t mirror more closely the generosity displayed around a certain winter holiday. If we as a nation truly want to recognize and celebrate our abundance, shouldn’t we feel inclined to share it with the less fortunate? If our national ideals promise to care for the poor and the homeless entering our country, shouldn’t we do the same for those already within our own neighborhoods and cities?

For around $30,000, the average municipality can conduct a firework display to celebrate our country. For that same amount of money, that same municipality could make a significant contribution to crisis intervention centers, homeless shelters, and food banks within their area. Now I’m not anti-fireworks—so you can cancel any meetings for “Firework Patriots for Truth.” I’m not suggesting that we go without our beloved fireworks shows. Heaven knows, Americans need something nostalgic and awe-inspiring in these unsettled times of war and politics.

However, small sacrifices on our part can leave a lasting legacy in the lives of those around us. If we could be satisfied with a shorter fireworks show, our cities could redirect the extra revenue to programs that care for the poor and downtrodden. With well over 25 firework displays planned within the state, those small contributions could quickly add up. At the very least, these small sacrifices can show our appreciation for the larger sacrifices made throughout American history. Surely we can sacrifice a few minutes of pyrotechnics to show we truly value the lives of all of the Americans our soldiers are defending.

America is a great nation. And if each of us valued the lives of our fellow Americans as much as we value America itself, we’d be greater still. Indeed, at that point we could truly say, “And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave / O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.”