What Does Liberty Mean to You?

an essay

Here we are in ~1979… my sister as Betsy Ross (I think?) and me as Lady Liberty on our grandfather’s pontoon boat on a tiny lake in northern Wisconsin with our parents, grandparents, cousins (like Superman here) and aunts and uncles. You can get a lot of people onto a pontoon boat!

Every 4th of July, the people with cottages on this tiny little lake decorated their boats and paraded around the lake tooting horns and blowing whistles at their friends and family onshore. (Maybe they still do… 🥰) Then everyone went home to enjoy a 4th of July meal of cheeseburgers, deviled eggs, baked beans, fruit salads, and perhaps strawberry shortcake for dessert, or cupcakes decorated in red, white and blue frosting. I don’t remember any fireworks, but I do remember sparklers and explosive bursts of laughter echoing across the water. I also remember being very proud of my country.

While there are certainly many people today who believe all is well and these are idyllic, “great” times, many others, like me, feel disillusioned and disoriented by what is happening in our country these days. I’m constantly on guard, bracing for more bad news… as I read my emails and feeds, engage in conversations, and observe people around me, I find myself wondering and worrying about what may happen next. How bad is it going to get? How bad does it need to get? Is it too late to turn things around?

I look at this picture of myself posing as the Statue of Liberty and I feel sad because I believe our government is taking a giant 💩 on liberty and justice. Take the immigration issue– just one of many upsetting things going on.

We no longer welcome “the tired, poor, huddled masses” anymore and instead label them all as “criminals,” despite the fact that there is no solid data that shows this to be true. There is, however, research that shows immigrants commit crimes at lower rates than native-born Americans. A Cato Institute report found that both legal and undocumented immigrants have lower incarceration rates than U.S.-born citizens. There has always been a stereotype about immigrants (e.g. from Ireland, Italy, Eastern Europe, Japan, Latin America, etc.) that they were/are “criminals” or “undesirables.” But this was/is mostly prejudice, not fact. Yet given recent developments in US immigration policy and ICE activity, it feels hypocritical to have Lady Liberty representing us when our government (and so/too many Americans) are metaphorically spitting on her.

I get it that people disagree. It’s okay to argue about how to solve problems. But while we definitely need to improve our immigration processes, there are better ways to go about it than treating people as animals, separating families, and traumatizing children. I’m upset about how polarized we are as a nation about something so central to who we are, or used to be. How will we bridge this divide? What does liberty mean to you? Do you believe we are truly being “invaded” by murderous villains from other countries? Can you show me the data on that? Frankly, I’m more concerned about certain people in political offices making egregious decisions that affect not only Americans, but also the entire world.

As I write this I’m on a road trip in our Airstream with my husband. We’re driving north to escape the summer heat of the desert where we live. Each year we go somewhere new, and the physical beauty of so much of America is beyond words. This year we’re visiting places like Yosemite, Glacier National Park, the Olympic Peninsula, the Colombia Gorge, Bend, and Napa. In previous years we’ve been to the Midwest, the Badlands, and the Rockies. We’ve driven along the same route as the Pony Express and eaten in the Denny’s voted “Best Denny’s” five years in a row (in Salina, Utah). We’ve seen Sedona, the Great Lakes, and tiny little towns tucked into back hills you’d never even know were there. We are so lucky to live in this country and to be able to travel all over it as we do, and have these incredible places that were preserved by smart people in the past.

We drove out of Yosemite the other day via the Tioga pass. It’s one of if not the most beautiful preserved areas in the country. I said, “I hope land like this can always stay this way. Natural. Not mined or sold to developers or some other travesty in the name of making money.” But these days who knows? Things that used to be off limits are no longer off limits.

So while the beauty of this incredible and diverse country never ceases to amaze me, the ugliness of current events jars me and brings me to tears. I’m experiencing a sort of cognitive dissonance in general, but especially when it comes to how I feel this 4th of July celebrating our so-called United States. How united are we? And around what higher purpose? Will this continue to be a country where I can write an essay like this without fear of retribution, as has happened already to various writers? Are we in for another version of McCarthyism? Or worse?

I’m curious– what does your personal version of liberty mean today? How are you feeling this 4th of July? I’d love to hear your thoughts about that in the comments. In the meantime, please be safe out there. If you disagree with me, I want to hear from you too, but I ask everyone to be respectful. Vitriol is unwelcome. God Bless America the Beautiful.

I’ll leave you with the famous sonnet by Emma Lazaras (1849 – 1887) that is inscribed on a plaque on the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty monument. If you don’t know what the “old Colossus” was, you can learn about that here.

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “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!”

Please note that font in red indicates a link to research/references.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash