Of Thee I Sing

I've never been so patriotic as when I've lived overseas. This might seem odd, as -- especially when living in France -- to be American was not popular. However, whenever I saw an American flag, or gathered together with Americans on Thanksgiving or the Fourth of July, I would get teary thinking of what it meant to be from The Land of the Free and The Home of the Brave.

I think it might have been more homesickness than patriotism, but nevermind that.

In a nearby park, a church hosts a massive Fourth of July event with choral singing and dancing (part of the show, no audience participation), carnival games and fireworks. Thousands attend. The park is so near, and the event is so large, that I've been listening to the choir's dress rehearsal tonight, from my backyard. As the event runs three nights, I'll be watching a full fireworks show over my house the next three nights.

If you're local, come on by.

Yesterday, some neighbors mentioned that they always get teary-eyed and overcome with patriotic fervor at the event. The fervor fades, but the warm fuzzies fill the night. I've had the same feeling at such events, sometimes all it takes is the singing of the national anthem at a ball game.

But, the older I get, the less patriotic I feel. Some might attribute this to my opinion of the last decade of American foreign policy, but it's more than that. Honestly, I'm not that upset with the government because I just don't expect much of them.

I think my waning fervor has more to do with my identity. After all the traveling I've done, after all the people I've met, after making friends with so many people from so many different countries, being American really isn't as important as being ... a child of the King. There is one Kingdom with my absolute loyalty, after that, I'll give Uncle Sam what is Uncle Sam's. And what should I give Uncle Sam? Taxes. Respect. Gratefulness. Honesty. General Good Citizenship. Reasonable Loyalty. Fairmindedness.

But, I am a Princess in Exile. Like the lesser Romanovs who escaped the Revolution, this land I live in is not my home, though I live here until I die. Unlike the Romanovs, I will go home someday.