What Fourth of July Fireworks Really Mean

The Fourth is usually a bittersweet time for me. It coincides with some personal difficulties I faced years ago, so it is rarely a purely happy occasion. Still, I learned something about fireworks a few years ago that made me feel better, and made me think of Independence Day in a whole new way.

Independence Day 2001 was the day that I, in an email, at a moment of sheer desperation, came out to much of my family as gay. I was 21 years old, taking summer courses at the University of Miami, broke, lonely and miserable. I did not even have enough money to take the train and the bus from campus over to South Beach for the fireworks display. Add to that, I was still reeling from the trauma of having my heart broken for the first time. (Remind me, and I’ll tell you that story another time.)

I realized that I was miserable not only because all of this had happened, but because I felt like I could not discuss it with my family. And so, on July 4, 2001, in a fit of irritation and disgust, I powered out a seven-page email titled “Independence Day”, and I told them everything.

The response was overwhelmingly positive. What a relief! Coming out solved a huge problem… but to my surprise, plenty more were soon to come. Being out meant learning to navigate dating, socializing, body image issues, safe sex, stereotypes and, of course, deciding who else to come out to. It was like leveling up in a video game: more points, more powers, more problems. Don’t get me wrong: life is way better as an openly gay man and, quite frankly, I wish I had done it sooner. But it seems naive in retrospect that I thought doing that would just solve of my problems. It’s like that quote from Socrates: The unexamined life is not worth living.

…and that other quote from Malcolm X: The examined life is painful.

Which brings me back to fireworks.

John Adams, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence and our second president, laid out the idea of a nationwide commemoration in a letter to his wife, Abigail Adams. It was July 3, 1776: the day before the Declaration was ratified. Adams knew that the 13 colonies were about to do something incredible, something historic, something that would have to be commemorated. But Adams was also clear that this was not just a party for partying’s sake. He wrote, in part:

“You will think me transported with Enthusiasm but I am not. — I am well aware of the Toil and Blood and Treasure, that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. — Yet through all the Gloom I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory. I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means. And that Posterity will tryumph in that Days Transaction, even altho We should rue it, which I trust in God We shall not.”

Did you get his point? Adams is saying that this holiday we celebrate today was meant to remind us not just of the liberation of defying British rule, but the unthinkable prices we would have to pay to make that defiance count.

According to the US Department of Defense, more than 1.2 million service members have died, from combat and otherwise, in all of America’s military campaigns combined (including the operations that followed the September 11th terror attacks). That is almost enough people to repopulate San Diego, or Dallas, or to repopulate Washington, DC twice. It began with roughly 44-hundred killed and nearly 62-hundred wounded in the American Revolutionary War. They could not have had the slightest inkling of what the colonies they fought for would become: a great nation filled with diversity, opportunity, creativity and hope. A nation infected by deep-seated corruption, massive inequality, greedy corporations and gruesome wars.

A union still striving to form itself “more perfect”.

And one that did not just declare its independence, but basically gave King George the Third a big, fat middle-finger in the process. I mean, have you ever really read the Declaration of Independence? It’s basically saying,

“Dear King: you’re a jackass. We know you believe God gave you the right to treat us like crap, but you are wrong. We are breaking up with you… here’s a list of 27 reasons why. And by the way, we are ready to die… and kill… for the country that, oh we almost forgot, we just founded. So suck it. Signed, all of us.”

WOW! If you can write a letter that causes more than ten thousand casualties and win the war… well, if that ain’t inspiring, then you’ve got a hole in your soul.

Declaring your independence does not mean saying, “Today, I am free!” It actually means saying, “Today, I am ready to fight. Bring it on.”

My letter to my family was written in a moment where the pain of staying the same became greater than whatever pains change might bring. And since then it has not actually made my life much easier. Just better. I look back at that scared little guy from 13 years ago, and the one who got his heart broken 15 years ago, and think, “If only you knew.  If only.”

So enjoy those fireworks and, please, I hope you will watch them from now on with a new perspective. Let every pyrotechnic blast remind you that the price you and I are paying on our journeys is steep, it is at times bankrupting, but it will be worth it.

That is truly something to fight for… and something to celebrate.

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