One Nation, Under Gaud

The waiting room in the doctor's office was empty, save a couple of middle aged women thoroughly indulging in the latest issue of a celebrity tabloid. The date was September 13, 2001 and America had yet to absorb the reality of what had taken place two days prior. I was anxiously awaiting the nurse to call my name when I heard one of the ladies strike up a conversation. I could have predicted that it was going to be a personal opinion of who was responsible for the attacks or an extreme discussion on what we should do in retaliation, however nothing could have prepared me for what oozed out of her mouth.
"You know," she said, "I wouldn't be surprised if China was responsible for this." She said it quite matter of factly, as though this was something we had all been thinking, yet no one had the audacity to say. "Maybe they are getting us back for dropping that nuclear bomb on Pearl Harbor."
It took me a couple of seconds to register what she had said, a couple more to decipher what she had meant, and one or two after that to pinch my arm to assure myself that I was, in fact, hearing this perversion of American history. Part of me wanted to kindly sit down and give her a brief but adequate lesson on geography and world affairs. Another part of me, however, wanted to less than gently remove the tabloid from her hands and replace it with an encyclopedia.
The nurse entered and softly called her name. As the woman stood, my still lingering bafflement from her previous statement was immediately replaced by sheer amusement. Sprawled across her sweatshirt in cross-stitch fashion were huge, red, white and blue letters, reading AMERICAN BY BIRTH, PATRIOTIC BY CHOICE.
It was then that I realized people were creating a new, modified version of patriotism that does not involve pride in American heritage or history. This was a glamorous, shiny new patriotism of pop culture that hatched over night, spawning tawdry bumper stickers and a spike in Lee Greenwood CD sales.
True, pure pride in America had seemingly been replaced by gaudy glam and sparkly jumpsuits. In an effort to project the qualities of a strong, unified nation, the American people dove head first into a trend of billboard loyalty and emerged covered in rhinestones and pinwheels, never stopping to think about the very ideals they were on the verge of mocking.
Just as individuals were adorning themselves with the flare of nationalism, businesses were jumping on the star spangled bandwagon as well. Car dealerships and furniture stores across the the country launched unprecidented "patriotic blowouts" and "all American" sales to appeal to the mind set of consumers. To be considered un-American was an economic death wish for any company, and compared to what it would cost to erect an American flag beside those golden arches or Texaco star, it was a death wish that was easily avoidable.
The warping of the meaning of patriotism is hadly a new concept. The elegant songs and recruiting posters of World War One depicting Johnny going off to war with a gleaming smile and a rifle portrayed a true patriot as someone who was a true warrior. It was replaced, however, with the brute, ruggedness of World War Two posters urging American families to be patriotic by growing their own vegetables, working hard on the home front and buying war bonds. By the time the conflict in Viet nam was under way, many young Americans had dreams of starting a revolution in an attempt to uphold the image of a true patriot who made a stand for what they thought was right.
The difference between these extremes is sacrifice. Standing up for what is right is not a requirement often considered by supporters of so-called patriotic American ideals. We can simply wave miniature flags in figure eights, buy and display limited edition Bald Eagle commemorative coins and wear Old Glory on a wind breaker to prove we are worthy citizens of this country. Without victory gardens, food rations or a draft, we have all but lost the idea of sacrifice for the support of America, the idea of true patriotism.
Ever since I walked out of that doctor's office on that September morning, I have thought about the woman who, apparently, made a choice to be what she believed was patriotic, yet woefully uneducated about the country she professed to love. I often wonder if she has taken the time since then to sit down and develop an understanding of what it is about America that makes it worth taking pride in. I wonder if she now realizes what she said that morning was a disservice to every other American who has made a sacrifice, in any way, for this country. But even more so, I find myself wondering if she ever got rid of that horrid sweatshirt.