While traveling across Turkey last December with a group of ministers, guests of the Institute of Interfaith Dialog, I made the acquaintance of a Turkish civil engineer at a Fethullah Gulen school dinner in Konya. We had driven there to visit the tomb of Rumi and witness the marvelous Whirling Dervishes ceremony, and our new friend, Fatih, provided us with a warm welcome and masterful orientation. During the course of the evening, he conveyed to me his excitement at the possibility of a business assignment to America the next year, and he eagerly questioned me as to what he might expect to find there. Later that evening, back in my hotel room, I penned for him the following response.
Fatih, you asked me, "What is America really like?" Well, I think I'd respond this way.
America is a little, red-haired girl with freckles, smiling, with a big ice cream cone on the 4th of July, the sparkle of fireworks in her eyes as she looks skyward. America is a mother and father of Asian extraction standing beneath the blue skies of South Dakota and explaining the stone faces on Mount Rushmore to their children. America is a black man in North Chicago stepping up onto a bus out of the rain and sitting down in a front seat on his way to a community college. America is a sprawling, diverse land that embraces persons of every description.
And yes, the geography does imprint itself upon the people who live there—the Pacific Ocean waves are in the blond, curly locks of the surfer's sun-bleached hair. The sweep of the Kansas wheat fields and prairies is in the bearing of the farmer as he climbs down from his tractor. The wind-blown snow of a northeastern winter is reflected in the Maine fisherman's beard as he tends his nets by the shore.
But more than this is America's heart. You see that heart in the boxes of food supplies stamped U.S.A. off-loaded from trucks in a drought-stricken region of Africa. You see it in volunteer medical teams flown in to assist earthquake victims in South America. You see it in the face of a young G.I. in Afghanistan fighting to restore freedom to a people who may not fully appreciate or understand his sacrifice for generations to come. So, too, you see the broken heart of a military family weeping beside a flag-draped casket. But what was it that shaped this heart? To reduce it to a single word—it was "choice."
Well over two hundred years ago, the founders of this nation known as America chose a republic over a monarchy. They chose to trust freedom and its consequences rather than the restrictive whims and edicts of a king. They backed that choice with their lives and fortunes, with the commitment of blood and steel. They debated and agreed upon certain rules they'd live by, penned them on parchment for all to see—and stuck by them. That was the foundation of America's heart.
Oh yes, and there was justice, too—that goes along, in the Pledge of Allegiance, with liberty. But justice wasn't always easy to come by. In the beginning there were peoples who were exploited by others and peoples who were denied what was rightfully theirs. At one point a great war, the American Civil War, was fought to rectify some of these wrongs and restore a balance of interests. Yet the quest for justice is always ongoing, and the thing about Americans is they never quit until they get it right.
Nevertheless, that freedom—the freedom to explore and innovate, to test out new ideas, to pursue one's dreams to their fullest—has wrought some astounding results. It's built endless cities and ports, highways and railroads, airlines and rockets to the moon. It's made literature and art and national parks—universities, factories, homes. It's brought medical miracles and technological wonders. And woven throughout the fabric of these accomplishments is a gratitude Americans feel for this bounty, a gratitude manifest in the reverence for their Almighty Source.
The nation's founders were individuals not only of intellect but also of the sincerest piety, and that religious faith has remained a constant throughout America's history. The evidence of this fact is in the vast numbers of churches, synagogues, temples and mosques one finds throughout the land as well as in the congregations flowing freely to and from their doors on days of worship. Not to mention the motto "In God We Trust" on the coinage.
That's not to say, however, that Americans can't be a fun-loving lot—oh, quite the contrary. The carnival tradition of a Coney Island has been with them for generations, now more than ever. They love Disneyland and motion pictures and rock concerts and baseball. They love walking the dog, shopping, sight-seeing and eating out. And they love the gifts nature has abundantly bestowed upon the land. The beauty of watching a desert sunset. The exhilaration of climbing a mountain trail. The awe of staring down into the Grand Canyon. The quietude of meditating in a redwood forest. And Americans are generous and love to share these pleasures with visitors from other lands. They're there for all to experience and enjoy.
The little girl with the ice cream mentioned earlier—that's how American children are: bright-eyed, full of energy, laughing, running, alternately well-behaved then full of mischief. Standing by a playground, one sees every color of the rainbow, hears many languages other than English spoken. Then, when these children grow to be teenagers, they're prone to do silly things such as dying their hair maroon, piercing their tongues or getting a tattoo on an ankle, partly to tease their parents.
Americans are a work-brittle, economy-focused people; they appreciate the importance of a strong economy in nurturing individual jobs and steady income, in maintaining a robust standard of living. They support the free market as the most effective means of keeping it intact. As for choosing some occupation one might wish to pursue, an American's options are as high as the heavens. The old saying, "The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker...," must be updated to something like "a lawyer, a programmer, a space engineer." Individual ability is the only boundary.
Of course, some mention must be made of politics. America has mainly a two-party system at the local, state and national levels. Americans can become quite enthused with the entertainment, drama and political passion surrounding a major election—an election which usually consists more of windy politicians vying for power than any valid competition of ideas. Still, they take the ballot box very seriously.
Finally, Americans are conscious of, but a bit perplexed by, the mixed messages regarding America's image sent to them by the rest of the world. On the one hand, the world seems to clamor for America's leadership in helping resolve international dilemmas and tensions hither and yon across the globe. And Americans, being a compassionate people, are only too willing to give their assent. Yet, on the other hand, not infrequently this involvement can take on a bitter tinge, and those calls for help become a seething "Yankee, go home!" "So, what are we to do?" Americans ask themselves sadly. There seems no easy answer. But, as someone once remarked, most telling may be the proportion of people trying to get into America as opposed to those who, once here, decide to leave. That may be the best yardstick of all by which to judge the world's genuine attitude toward the nation. If that's so, then America fares quite well.
So, how does one, from the outside looking in, define and understand the character of the American people? Perhaps, Fatih, the best method might be to hold up a mirror and look closely into the face you see. The years of hard work are lined in the forehead—as are the sorrows for loved ones gone. But there's pride around the eyes, love for your mate and hope for your children's future. And the lines beside the mouth reveal laughter past and song and determination. And the texture of the skin is the texture of survival, of withstanding the adversity of sun and wind. Then look more deeply into the eyes, into the soul residing there. And realize, finally, but for geography, you could be looking into the soul of an American.
* * * *
Winner of third prize, essay category, in the 2007 Missouri Writers' Guild Winter Contest.
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