Letter to America.

Dear America,

I hope this message reaches you safe and sound and I hope this reaches you while you are in good health. You are certainly getting our attention with the upcoming elections. I hope that whatever happens you think hard about who is the best candidate for such an important job. Choosing the most powerful man or woman in the world is a rather heavy task. Your decision not only affects your country but pretty much every other country in the world. We hope for a good outcome just like you.

Let's get down to it.

I am British, and I understand if you wish to shut down your internet browser completely upon reading those three words. Let's face it, a Briton commenting on America on the internet rarely sounds like the type of thing an all american lover would want to read, but please bare with me.

This is not an American bash. It is an explanation of my old American bashes you may have found in years past on the internet.

I do not hate America.

I do not hate Americans.

I do not believe America to be perfect but then I do not believe Britain is either or any other country. To love a country is something of a danger in my own view. You can love a person or even hold affection for a pet but a country is not the same thing at all.

In the end we are only humans who seemingly divide ourselves according to the colour of cloth we fly.

I believe patronism is dangerous. Before you jump, let me explain. I am no communist. (You'd be surprised at how often I get called that just for saying that.) My own view on patronism is biased. I come from a country almost torn apart by extremist patriots (Northern Ireland) and I am in no good mood to see another country do the same. Particulary America. Because in a way I do love America, as hypocritical as I am.

At least I did love it.

No, I loved the idea of it. You Americans don't really get it sometimes do you? I was angry at you. I did yell. I did shout. But it was fuelled by bitter disappointment. Don't you see? The fire of anger is gone but the flickering embers of pure and utter disillusionment remain.

You fought our country for independence and won. You made something of yourselves. In the back of our minds while we grumbled, we could not help but be deep down impressed. You were ahead of your time. You, from the descendents of the evil, fanatically religious scourges of Europe, managed to find good men in order to set your laws. Equality. Freedom.

We used to see you as a symbol of democracy. Everyone did. Democracy and America went hand in hand. Everyone wanted to visit or even live in America.

Why did you stop? What happened since then?

...


Why do you allow fear to overrun you? Why do you turn a blind eye to real atrocities, and invent imaginary ones? Why do we let you drag us along for the ride? Have we no spine? And why do you then ask 'Why is everyone so angry?'


I was so angry, so terribly angry America. You showed the fairytale for what it was. Nothing but a fairy tale. It was like being a child and finding out there was no Santa- it was only your dad in a big red suit with a pillow stuffed down its front. You broke the magic.

Was there ever such an America that was for freedom and democracy? Did you once have it, but lose it? Or was it all a lie like Santa Claus?

Like a child I threw a tantrum, I was bitter. It was horrible being lied to. I cursed, I screamed, I wept, I entered deep thought.

I found my source of anger: just disappointment. That was all it was. Perhaps it is the source of all anger- disappointment, unmet expectations.

I view you now as you begin to choose your next presidential candidates with skepticism and yet I dare say it some cursed optimisim.

I want it to be true. I want an America which stands for truth. Deep down we all do.

But wanting something to be true and it being true are two different things entirely.

Next time you see a rant about your country, about Americans in general- before you retort, before you scream back, remember:

You believe in America.

I used to too.

-Love Heather (mentalguru)