America, How I Remember Thee

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic

The Democratic Party is on a losing course. Already they are beating each other up on almost every conceivable issue of relevance to the average American voter. Unfortunately, their words, their actions, their policy statements, and their in-fighting over every topic and issue that comes before them, seems of little significance or consequence to them. Their main concern is re-election and keeping the big donor pockets open and accessible.

AMERICA, HOW I REMEMBER THEE

By Al Garcia

The Democratic Party is on a losing course.  Already they are beating each other up on almost every conceivable issue of relevance to the average American voter.  Unfortunately, their words, their actions, their policy statements, and their in-fighting over every topic and issue that comes before them, seems of little significance or consequence to them.  Their main concern is re-election and keeping the big donor pockets open and accessible. 

The upcoming 2022 Congressional campaign will not be about issues or policies affecting ordinary Americans.  The upcoming campaign will be about hate, division, race, lost rights to one’s body, and to one’s vote.  Republicans will turn every issue that might arise into a referendum on freedom, not freedom of choice or freedom to vote, but the freedom to be irrelevant and immaterial – the perfect Republican pawn.  They will also focus their attention on the meddlesome and interfering whining Democratic patsies, wanting to remain relevant and pertinent in a nation that has lost its moral compass, and its grasp of identity and character.

How I recall the passion of my youth and the pride I felt when I saw the red, white and blue waving high against the brilliance of the sky.  How I sensed a dignity and a greatness that surpassed the sorrow of fallen patriots and nameless heroes who believed in the nobility and morality of country over self.  America, how I remember thee.

Born into a time and into a place where color, culture and tradition defined me more like chattel than the man I would become, I nonetheless felt the grace that God had shed on me, and on the promised brotherhood of man.  And I believed in America, even before America believed in me. 

It was the promise of what America could be and would become, that inspired and stirred the hearts and souls of impassioned pilgrims, dreamers and romantics, to trek across the wilderness and across the Rio Grande, and endure the agony, the heartbreaks. and even the humiliation, of being mistreated and abused.  My heritage survived the seasons -- too many to count -- too many to ever forget -- for the dreams undimmed by human tears.  America, how I remember thee. 

Although I saw the vestiges of suppression, oppression and depression, as I was growing up along the Rio Grande as a boy and as a young man, I never questioned America – it was my home, my country.  It was my America because it was my hard-earned legacy, left to me by faceless and nameless relatives, whose sweat and tears, and even blood, gave me the right to follow their dreams and to realize my own.  America, how I remember thee.

Growing up along the Rio Grande, I was confused by some of the people that surrounded me, and that for some reason disliked me, loathed me and even despised me – just because of the color of my skin, and my ethnicity – yet, they didn’t know me, didn’t talk to me, and they didn’t want to.  But most of all, during those early years, I was dismayed that they didn’t know I felt the hurt their stares and words and even unintended cruelty had on a young mind and heart like mine, and others just like me.  And for far too long, I too did not realize how much, and for how long, that hurt would last.  And now, we seem determined to return to those times and those days.  America, how I remember thee.

How strange to now live among the very people who once looked down upon me and my kind.  How gratifying to realize the heights we have reached and the dreams we have helped to make come true.  Yet, there still remains the ugliness that once prevailed.  The shadows of my youth have returned to ignite unpleasant memories of the darkness that once covered the wounds and lesions of bigotry, racism and prejudice.  America, oh how I thought I had forgotten that part of thee. 

How sad to realize that after all these years of civility and respect, be it genuine, disguised, or presumed, America and Americans are being taken back into the darkness that once consumed us, divided us, and weakened us as a nation and as Americans.

How sad to realize how many Americans long for the cruelty and depravity being advocated, supported and encouraged by those we put into power, and whom we mistakenly thought were patriots and partisans of the American dream and the American experience.  They have betrayed themselves and those they swore to protect and defend. 

I still believe in America, but America seems to be abandoning me and the countless heroes who more than self their country loved.  So many sacrificed their lives so the American idea and ideals would live in perpetuity.  Instead, their sacrifices are being buried under the ashes of unrealized dreams and abandoned hope.  Lies, deceit, treachery and duplicity, have taken hold of America’s heart and soul.  Inspiration has been replaced by desperation.  Motivation has been replaced by hindrance and impediment.  And the American dream is being replaced by the silence of indifference and apathy. 

America once beautiful and free, now being sold to the highest bidder, the biggest liar, the most outrageous conspiracy creator, and to the simplest of mind and of character.

And once, when I felt like chattel because of my heritage and my color, soon all Americans, regardless of color, gender or ethnicity, will feel the hurt I felt growing up.  And then, too late, they too may say, “America, how I remember thee. “

History has already recorded the tragic and wretched obituaries of those who once believed and supported regimes and men who promised them the world, and instead delivered them to the abyss of hell. 

In the meantime, the clock is ticking . . .  and our time is running out.

 


Submitted: October 07, 2021

© Copyright 2021 A.Garcia. All rights reserved.

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