Grilling carne asada on the Fourth of July is as American as flipping burgers or roasting hot dogs—and I’ll tell you why. But first, we need to talk about what it even means to be American right now.
Because despite the messiness of the moment—wars abroad, fascism simmering at home, ICE alerts popping up on my Ring app—I’m still proud to be an American. Maybe not in the “giant flag hanging off the back of my truck” way . But in a complicated, honest way. The kind of pride that comes from understanding that America was never perfect to begin with—but has always been full of possibility.
On its best days, this country is a beacon of hope. On its worst days (at least for now), it’s still a place where I’m free to speak my mind, question authority, and gather with my community. That’s not nothing. That’s hard-fought. That’s messy, imperfect, and always evolving.