I love the 4th of July. I always have, and I always will. I love the festivity of it, the fact that we celebrate something that is both monumental and fundamental; that we have a holiday to remind us to not take for granted that which once we were denied; that Americans are the sort of dreamy, cheesy people who will wave flags and cheer in the bleakest of years, when the dream seems to be no more than a memory. Nothing could have prepared me for the absolute delight, though, that is the Boston 4th of July. I am truly amazed.
Because I’m heading to London tonight, I won’t be able to attend the actual Boston 4th celebration, but they held a “dress rehearsal” last night that was open to the public, and a friend and I went. Truly magnificent: the Boston POPS, along with Toby Keith, the Tanglewood choir, Middlesex Fife and Drum Volunteers, and easily over a thousand enthusiastic members of the audience. It was truly inspiring. Since it was the Boston POPS, the music was phenomenal of course, and the spirit of patriotism was high, too.
One thing I will miss about Boston is the fact that it’s not a hater town. Bostonians LOVE things. They love the Sox, they love the Celtics, they love being the cradle of freedom. Just like they deck themselves in bright green for the Celtics, proudly displaying their loyalty, on the 4th of July they come out in reds, whites, and blues. They wear sparkly Uncle Sam hats, wrap themselves in flags; they sit on 
American flag towels, eating American flag popsicles. They rise to the national anthem without fail, hands over hearts, voices ringing out. They know the words. And last night, every time the veterans were saluted or remembered, the audience took to its feet with smashing applause, whistles and cheers. At first, they reminded me so much of Texans, and I was strangely comforted. And then I realized, it’s not so much that they are like Texans — it’s that they are Americans.
They are a people who, at least on this holiday, refuse to forget the cost of things. Freedom is not free, one banner read. The veteran in front of me wept for part of the ceremony, and his young friend — perhaps his son — decked in some sort of Ed Hardy-ish shirt, came over and sat behind him, rubbing his shoulders.
These days, I know, it’s sometimes hard to be proud to be American. We are told, with sneers, that Americans think they are better at everything; our errors and flaws are flaunted worldwide; our government’s complicated and often murky motives heralded as our only cause. And yet… what better time to wave the flag? If not in pride, then as a banner, a call. Surely a dark hour is the basic requirement for a dream — and ours is a dream by people in their darkest hours.
It is the dream of younger sons trapped by a classist society, religious men and women persecuted for their beliefs, tradesman seeking ownership of their work, explorers hungry for the untouched, visionaries who see a better life. It is the dream of people who do not fear their past or current limitations, who do not give up when the system seems unbeatable — the dream of people poised for change, for progress, a people secure in the knowledge of who they are and what a government owes them. 
Unalienable rights. It is the dream of men and women unafraid of work, confident in the immeasurable value of this investment’s return. It is a dream that begets a doing spirit, a dream that scorns idle musing without corresponding action. It is a dream with intent — the intent to be realized.
And because it is this kind of dream, it stands out in the world: unjaded, fresh, defiant. Foolish to the outsiders; young and naive to the naysayers. They would like us to lower our heads, to be buried under our failures and errors. But the real naivety is theirs — the belief that, though we were to reach even the lowest point, we could forget this dream. We gather on july 4th year by year, not necessarily in honor of what we are doing or what we have done, but to celebrate what we are, to remember where we have come from, and to declare that we ourselves, like the generations before us, will actively shape this dream into a reality.
currently, i am in: cambridge, ma
