On Patriotism

A few days ago was the tenth anniversary of the day the Twin Towers were attacked. A day that, like it or not, changed the world. Some people lost more than others, but we all lost something; we lost our ability to trust each other. While the world shook, united in grief, shocked at the effects of such ugly hatred, we almost simultaneously barricaded our hearts, minds, homes, and countries against each other in fear of another attack. And where does that leave us now? It has changed the way we see and treat our fellow human; it has made us all slightly less human.
One of my old friends from Mexico criticized the U.S. for all the "drama" surrounding the tenth anniversary of 9/11, and I called her out on it. She respectfully disagreed with me (I find the phrase "respectfully disagree" ironic because it implies anything but respect in my mind), and she praised my patriotism.
What? Me? Patriotic?! I am the girl without a country. Or with two countries, neither of which I fully embrace. I was born in Oklahoma. We moved to Texas, then Florida, then Mexico before moving back to Texas. I learned to not get too attached. I also learned another language and a culture that has become part of me, even if I push it aside. Admittedly, I am more American than Mexican now. For starters, I've lived here most of my life. Also, I'm not really teaching my kids to speak Spanish (terrible, I know), and I tend to root for team USA in the Olympics (unless they're up against Mexico because who doesn't like an underdog?). Yet in my heart, I do not feel any deep love or pride in being American. It's just what I am, and I feel little--if any--emotions about it. In fact, I internally scoff at the notion of being "proud to be an American," in part, probably because of my mother's resistance to loving the American culture after being uprooted from her country (as well as her global/"outsider" perspective) that has slightly rubbed off on me, but also because I equate it to being proud to be female... Both happy circumstances over which I had no control or choice and therefore need not be proud of. Maybe it'd be different if I hadn't always been American, if I'd had to fight for the lifestyle that living in this country affords me (because it is very different from the life I would've had in Mexico... and to think that I didn't want to move back here!).
Maybe I'm too comfortable and maybe my apathy is wrong, but I do think that our soldiers are sacrificing more than I ever could and that the people who died on 9/11 are victims of an inhumane hatred, and I do not need to have an ounce of patriotism to believe either of those things. And that is why I told my friend that there is no good reason for her to despise our memorialization of September 11. Regardless of the country they call home, people are people, and innocent deaths are a tragedy, and human deaths must be mourned. Hatred brought down those towers and made us all a little scared of one another. Spreading that hatred will never bring peace. I pray that one day we will find a way to regain our humanity and live in peace.