patriotic?

When I walked through customs at LAX on August 1st and saw the large painted letters, "Welcome to the United States of America," I got a little choked up. Every time I've re-entered the country, the passport officials say, "Welcome home." I love that. Just a few days earlier, I had seen a picture of a George Washington in Boston at the Thai Princess' photography exhibit. It moved me.

Yet when I lived in France growing up, I was always a little disgusted by my American-ness. As a history major, I was confronted again and again with the U.S.A's evil mistakes. In college, expressing disdain for country was trendy and necessary to prove that you understood its weaknesses. It made you a good liberal.

While I can despise some of our country's policies past (thank you, Howard Zinn) and present (only 4 more months, GWB!!!) , the more time I have spent abroad since my mission, the more my love of country has increased. I love the vastness, the diversity, the land, the innovation, the history, the arts of this nation. I feel deeply grateful for the opportunities my family has had here. These were the thoughts running through my head as I got my passport stamped. (It's full now - I need to get additional visa pages!)

But as my cousin Emily drove me home, I was affronted by the consecutive miles of fast-food chains, the huge gas-guzzling cars only containing one passenger, the strip malls, the inequality, the empty excess. I could feel my warm feelings for America starting to dissipate. It's complicated.