This year America turns 250. Amazing I’m getting old
In 1976, I was 10 years old and a fifth grader at SBJ Elementary School in Orange Park, Florida. Double digits. My school did the Bicentennial up big and I’ll never forget it. Everything was red, white, and blue. There were programs, decorations, activities, songs, and projects. For a kid who already loved Halloween and Christmas -any excuse for a celebration-it was absolutely magical. Left a deep impression on me.
There was something special about being young and feeling connected to something so much larger than yourself. I probably didn’t understand history or democracy or what 200 years really meant, but I understood the excitement, the feeling of community and the desire for celebration.
And that probably fed my love of traditions and holidays, which has sustained me in many ways over the years.
I grew up, began raising my own family, and July 4th became one of those traditions we celebrated. Cookouts, fireworks, photos, the kids growing up.
This year I am an empty nester so decorating for holidays feels unnecessary, but I added a July 4th tree to my collection despite that. I’ll never stop appreciating celebration.
In 1976 as a kid, America felt uncomplicated to me. Today of course, is different. I’d be lying if I said I’m not worried about the country.
The division we are experiencing is deep. People are quick to assume the worst of each other. We’ve become better at starting arguments than solving problems. Disagreement equals disrespect. It feels hopeless at times.
I’m getting older and more reflective which is probably why I’m thinking about that 10-year-old girl at SBJ Elementary in 1976, excited to celebrate, excited to belong to something bigger than herself. I still remember how that felt, and it meant something.
So, this is my post to commemorate my young self, and the 250 year old country I live in and believe in, still.
