Being An American

I’m an American. If you’ve followed my blog, you might remember that I officially became a U.S. citizen on August 2, 2022. This year, I had the privilege of voting in my first presidential election.

I’ve always had an interest in politics, but as I’ve grown older, my feelings about it have become more complex. I’d say it’s a love-hate relationship now. Truthfully, much like journalism, it feels like there’s not a lot left to love about the state of politics these days.

To give you an idea of where I’m coming from, I enjoy watching The Five on occasion, have never really tuned in to The View, and these days I prefer Gutfeld over the late-night shows I used to enjoy when they were actually funny. I’m old enough to remember when Saturday Night Live was sharp, witty, and, at times, groundbreaking.

I don’t identify as strictly Republican or Democrat—I’m more of an independent, though I struggle to find much common ground with today’s Democratic Party. And no, I don’t see Trump as some kind of savior. The political climate these days often reminds me of something from the Old Testament, specifically the Book of Judges.

But I digress. What I really want to talk about is what it means to me to be an American.

When I was a kid, fresh in a new country, I served on our elementary school’s flag team. If I remember right, there were three or four of us—Cedric Brown, Ronald Madewell, and maybe Leon Carr. Every morning, it was our job to unfold the American flag and raise it on the flagpole outside J.H. Moore Elementary. Every afternoon, we’d lower and fold it carefully, making sure no part of it touched the ground. Back then, Nixon and McGovern were in the news, battling for the role of leading the “land of opportunity.” The unrest of that era didn’t fully register with me; I just knew that people were shouting about something.

In second grade, we held a mock election at school. I remember campaigning for my favorite candidate at the time, even though it was just pretend. Our whole elementary school took part—from first graders to sixth graders. Growing up, I had teachers who were passionate about American and Texas history. They taught us not only about the past but about the value of keeping up with current events, why journalism mattered, and how the three branches of government provided checks and balances.

Our teachers instilled in us a sense of civic duty and the importance of being part of the process. They taught us that we have a voice and that it can only be heard if we use it. For me, that’s part of what it means to be an American: respecting where we came from, valuing our voice, and understanding that the ability to participate in our nation’s story is both a responsibility and a privilege.

Dear reader, I don’t know your politics, nor do I need to know. In America, you have the right—and privilege—of holding true to your personal convictions. We don’t have to agree. We can still be friends. We can still be civil. It’s not the end of the world as we know it—any more than it was back then.

Being an American means having the freedom and responsibility to shape one’s own life while contributing to the larger community. It’s about holding the right to individual expression and convictions, regardless of whether others agree, and having the privilege of speaking up on issues that matter. To be American is to value democracy—participating in elections, respecting different views, and understanding that our voices have the power to influence our society.

It also means embracing diversity, knowing that America is a tapestry woven from many backgrounds, stories, and beliefs. To be American is to believe in possibility, to work toward opportunity, and to uphold a commitment to justice, even when it requires difficult conversations or actions. It’s about recognizing that, while we may not always agree, we’re bound by a shared commitment to ideals like liberty, equality, and community.

Everyone must submit to governing authorities. For all authority comes from God, and those in positions of authority have been placed there by God.

Romans 13:1 NLT

In essence, being American isn’t defined by a single set of beliefs but by a shared spirit of resilience, respect, and hope for a better future—one in which everyone has a voice and an opportunity to become the best version of themselves.

Until my next post…

God bless America. 

Grace and peace,

Rainer Bantau —The Devotional Guy™

#JesusStrong