For Spacious Skies

“Oh say can you see my eyes—if you can then my hair’s too short!” –“Hair”, from the musical, Hair

This quarter we have mainly been looking at the issue of identity, the American one, to be precise. To me, the quote above is just another piece to the puzzle of American identity—not just because the line is sung to the national anthem, no, but because it shows the American’s binary opposition of desires. We want to forge our own path, yet we tell the same stories. We want to trust ourselves, but the darkness inside us prevents us. We want to rebel, yet we crave the safety of belonging.

The aforementioned ideologies could be said to be international. And I would agree. But the reason why these characteristics are in a way “claimed” by America is because America itself is a hodgepodge of people, history, tragedy, and triumph. With all that inconsistency, it’s no wonder that America is confused about who she is. He is. It is.

In Hair, the desire to both be a part of the nation and rebel against it is clearly demonstrated. Set during the Vietnam War, the main characters both bash the common viewpoint of stale conformity and sing a song “Crazy for the Red, White and Blue” that is about giving homage to the flag. This reverence coupled with irreverence is very American. It also speaks volumes to what we stand for. Not even to mention what I stand for.

I believe we live in the greatest country in the world, if only we would live up to what we set out to be. I believe in America. In our hopes and dreams. But I also know how those hopes and dreams can be perverted. It is this contrast, doubt and belief, dream and perversion, that define our American character today, and therefore mine as well.

I identify with America. We just want to know who we are. The dark sides, the bright sides, the clean and the messy. This struggle of ambivalence characterized us from our earliest literature all the way up to now. Cotton Mather? Mary Rowlandson? Luke Skywalker? We all ask the same thing.

Are we evil, or good?

Someone in class said at one point, “The problem with believing you are good is that someone else has to be evil.”

I think that is where America started. City on the Hill, Shining Beacon of Hope. And then somewhere along the line, we started to realize that we couldn’t stand up to that expectation. So we started to explore that darkness in ourselves. There is a definite shift between the declaration of the chosen in On Witchcraft or even the Rowlandson narrative, and the devastating self doubt of Poe, or The Coquette.

Who are we? Are we the stalwart white flower of Dickinson? The violent conquistador that cuts animal’s eyes out? Are we fallen women or do we rise above conformity?

America has put itself into a struggle of epic and eternal proportions.

Are we, at our roots, good or evil?

That is what this class is about, really. Our roots. We have to grow from somewhere, and we cannot choose our history. We are a nation of freedom, yes, but also bloodshed, ego.

This class is perfect for a college student to take. With every decision we make we decide even more who we are and who we wish to be. We question our own thoughts, our beliefs, our self worth, because we are finally at an age when we can choose them for ourselves. And how lucky are we to be able to do that?

I must admit, while I pick on corporate interests, wars, self-reliance to the point of isolation, I ignore the freedoms we do possess in this country. No one forced Dickinson to marry. Thoreau was not executed for not paying his taxes. All of their inflammatory, dangerous, beautiful rhetoric was published. What a blessing that is in itself.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

When we read this, do we realize the power in these words? This amendment, this ONE SENTENCE gives us the right to be human beings. To meet, to speak our minds, to believe what we choose. In this one sentence is the power of art, of criticism, of action, of knowledge. Without this, we are nothing. We should be damn proud of this sentence.

And of the beauty that was its result.

Without it, Emily Dickinson would have been forced to go to church.

Harriet Jacobs' bold slave narrative would never have been published.

Women would still be objects.

African Americans would still be slaves.

Emerson and Thoreau probably would have been executed.

I mean, jeez. We wouldn’t have this class!

The freedom to be thinking individuals is an American gift. And even though people use and abuse it, we should still be grateful. I know I’m not thankful enough. But I do respect the literature that comes of it.

Because of this sentence, we are allowed to tell the truth, as we see it, in our own words. And that, to me, is the most important aspect of being a living human being.

You see, I live by that Keats line from "Ode to a Grecian Urn," "Beauty is truth, truth beauty- that is all ye know on earth and all ye need to know."

That's my cornerstone.

I died for beauty, but was scarce

Adjusted in the tomb,

When one who died for truth was lain

In an adjoining room.

He questioned softly why I failed?

"For beauty," I replied.

"And I for truth-the two are one;

We brethren are," he said.

Why am I an English major? Why a writer? Why a teacher?

Reference the above.

I do love this country. And perhaps that is why, at some points, I rail against it so. Because I know where we’ve come from. And knowing that helps me better understand where we are going.

Our roots our strong. We come from people like:

Emerson:

"Every man is a cause, a country, and an age."

Jacobs:

"My master had power and law on his side; I had a determined will. There is might in each," (216).

Thoreau:

"All machines have their friction; and possibly this does enough good to counterbalance the evil."

Dickinson:

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can cease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

With ties like that, how can we go wrong? And Thoreau is right. We can get caught up in the machinery of life, forget the good that came before us. But we can always decide to once again be the friction to the machine.

After all, we wouldn’t be the first.

The Star Spangled Banner

Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more!
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!