I spent the first week of this month walking the streets of Philadelphia, Pa., the United States’ second national capital and home to historic attractions like the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. On my group’s third day in Philly, we visited the National Constitution Center, which featured exhibits on the Articles of Confederation and the 27 amendments.
Standing under a spotlight on the floor of the center’s rounded theater, a narrator gave an emphatic 15-minute presentation on American idealism as projectors displayed images and videos showcasing the apparent progress our country has collectively made toward the principle represented in the phrase that begins the Preamble to the U.S. Constitution: “We the people.” Mulling over her words, I felt the spark of patriotism renew in my spirit, only for it to be tempered by the crushing realization that we still have a long way to go before those words are fully actualized.
“We the people” encompasses people of all ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds, gender identities, and sexual orientations. But our country is not nearly as inclusive as it needs to be for those three words to ring true. Worse yet, just hearing the term “inclusivity” causes people of certain political persuasions to scoff and roll their eyes. Some legislators and local leaders have even been working to remove programs that promote diversity, equity and inclusion—either in language or in function.
Despite statistics concluding that Americans are becoming more empathetic, tolerant and progressive with each generation, certain factions of people—a loud and manipulative minority—dig in their heels and refuse to embrace many groups whose ultimately harmless walks of life differ from their own. In Mississippi in particular, time and time again, I have observed people exhibiting this stubborn need to cling to archaic perspectives on topics of which they have limited understanding.
I used to harbor a degree of ignorance myself; perhaps I still do. But I know that I have grown in my adult life, and I hope that I will continue to develop into the type of person that makes others feel safe and valued. I want the same for my state and country.
The creation of the Bill of Rights more than 200 years ago in Philadelphia cemented the notion that the U.S.’ laws and regulations, even those in our founding documents, could be altered as the nation’s social consciousness evolves. On too many occasions, I have seen or heard people point toward those who created this country as they espouse outdated ideas when challenged. “So-and-so believed in this or did that,” the defensive arguments go.
Sure, perhaps they did. But we should not be attempting to emulate the imperfections of our founders, who in many cases owned human beings as slaves. Moreover, the writers of our Constitution knew that values would shift over time, so they ensured a process that would allow future generations to amend it. Our forebears expected us to build a more harmonious society and for our regulations to reflect those shifts.
Instead, I am seeing an alarming amount of politicians and other leaders supporting what I would call a regression of acceptance—targeting queer communities or people of color, for example, in ways that are in direct opposition to the principles behind “we the people.” We should not be moving backward.
So, to those who want the generations after us to live in a world with less vitriol and hate and with more empathy and compassion, I ask that you continue to advocate for your cities, your counties, your state and your nation. Do so with your votes in primaries and general elections, regardless of party. Do so with the programs you support. Do so by setting an example.
One day, perhaps “we the people” can be more than just an aspiration.
