I Love America. That’s Why I Feel Uneasy at 250

 


Democracy, governance, and the quiet tension I can’t ignore

Growing Up Believing America Was the Best

I have been thinking about America in a way that feels more personal than political. Not as an abstract idea, but as something I have carried with me for most of my life. That takes me back to high school. I was asked to write an essay about the country I admired most. I chose the United States without hesitation. When my teacher asked me why, I gave the answer I had always heard: America is the land of the free and the home of the brave. She asked me to explain it. I could not. I believed it deeply, but I had never really examined what it meant.

Military Service and the Formation of Belief

That understanding began to take shape years later when I joined the military and served in Europe toward the end of the Cold War. From that vantage point, America did not feel like a slogan. It felt like a system that worked.

I saw how sustained pressure, economic strength, and strategic positioning pushed the Soviet Union into a collapse it could not avoid. It reinforced something I had always believed but never fully understood. America was not just powerful. It was purposeful. That belief stayed with me through the war on terror. We were defending something real. Something worth protecting. But over time, that clarity began to shift.

When Security Began to Reshape Freedom

The changes did not happen all at once. They came slowly, almost quietly. Airports became more restrictive. Security became more intrusive. What once felt temporary became permanent. Removing shoes, limiting what you carry, and layers of screening that became part of normal life.

Then came the surveillance disclosures. The idea that vast amounts of personal data could be collected without meaningful oversight raised a question I had never seriously considered before. At what point does protecting freedom begin to change it?

Democracy at 250 and a Growing Sense of Unease

As America approaches 250 years of independence, I feel both pride and discomfort. I still believe in the country. That has not changed. But I can no longer ignore what I am seeing. According to Pew Research Center data, about 58 percent of Americans are dissatisfied with how democracy is functioning. That is not a small number. That is a signal. Something is shifting beneath the surface.

Executive Power and the Expansion of Authority

One of the clearest signs of that shift is the expansion of executive power. Government by executive order is not new, but the scale has changed. Recent patterns show a steady increase, with a sharp acceleration in recent years. Hundreds of executive actions in a short period begin to change how decisions are made. It starts to feel less like shared governance and more like centralized direction. When the balance between the executive and legislative branches begins to blur, democracy starts to feel different.

Voting Rights, Gerrymandering, and Representation

I also find myself troubled by what is happening with voting rights. The right to vote was once expanded through struggle and sacrifice. Now it feels like it is being narrowed in more subtle ways. New identification requirements, changes in access, and shifting legal interpretations are raising concerns about who gets to participate and how easily.

At the same time, congressional districts are being drawn in ways that prioritize political advantage over representation. Gerrymandering creates safe seats, where compromise is no longer necessary, and extremes are rewarded. That is not how democracy is supposed to work.

Money, Power, and the Question of Representation

The role of money in politics adds another layer of concern. The cost of running for office has increased dramatically over time. According to OpenSecrets, the 2022 midterm elections cost nearly $9 billion. Running for Congress now requires millions of dollars.

At the same time, a significant percentage of lawmakers are millionaires, while only a small fraction of the general population is. That gap raises a difficult question. Are we still looking at a government that reflects the people, or one that reflects a particular class?

Economic Inequality and Everyday Reality

I have seen the effects of inequality up close. Millions of Americans are living in or near poverty. Roughly one in eight relies on food assistance at some point. That is not a sign of laziness. It is a sign of a system where wages do not always meet basic needs.

Young people are graduating with significant debt and entering a housing market that feels out of reach. The average age of a first-time homebuyer is now around 40. That is not the economic promise many of us grew up believing in.

When Institutions Begin to Feel Unstable

There are also moments that challenge something deeper than policy. Watching the events of January 6th unfold was one of those moments. Seeing the Capitol under siege, followed by legal consequences and then political reversals, created a level of confusion that is hard to process.

It made me question how stable our institutions really are. The judiciary, once seen as a stabilizing force, is now being drawn into political battles. Lawsuits against judges, ideological divisions, and public criticism are changing how people perceive the courts. Academic institutions are facing similar pressure. Universities are being pushed to align with political directives or risk losing funding. That kind of pressure changes the role of education in a democracy.

Citizenship, Accountability, and Troubling Signals

There are developments that feel even more unsettling. Reports of wrongful deportations, including cases involving American citizens, raise serious questions about accountability. Citizenship is supposed to be a fixed point. When that becomes uncertain, even in rare cases, it sends a powerful signal. It reminds me of moments in history where governments blurred lines in ways that seemed unthinkable until they happened.

Why This Conflict Feels Personal

Despite all of this, I do not feel detached from America. If anything, I feel more connected. This is the country I believed in as a student. The country I served. The country that taught me to think critically, even when that meant questioning it. The words on the Statue of Liberty still matter to me. The idea of e pluribus unum still carries weight. But belief comes with responsibility.

Loving America Means Facing the Truth

Loving a country does not mean ignoring what is happening. It means paying attention. It means acknowledging progress while also recognizing setbacks. It means being willing to say that something is not right, even when that feels uncomfortable. As we approach 250 years of independence, I find myself holding two truths at once.

I am proud of America. And I am concerned about what I see. That tension is not a rejection of the country. It is a reflection of how much it still matters. Because if democracy is to endure, it cannot depend on belief alone. It depends on what we are willing to confront. And right now, there is a lot to confront.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Why Governing America Feels Harder Than Ever

A Week in American Power: When Events Move Faster Than Governance

America at 250: Governance, Generational Strain, and the Future of Democratic Trust