Great American road trip says “See America First”

When America’s frontier was officially declared closed in 1890, the country scrambled for a new identity. For hundreds of years, we had been a nation with seemingly limitless borders. The stretch from the Atlantic to the Pacific felt endless and the people of our nation proudly embraced the idea of their pioneering character. But when the frontier closed, the nation stumbled to find a new backbone. Expansionism was over and the world wars that brought our modern nation into global dominance was still in the future.

Around this time, the elite and middle classes of the east coast were spending $500 million a year visiting Europe. In an effort to keep some of that money at home, the newly formed national parks and the great railways that depended on domestic travel joined hands and gave America a new identity. By insisting that true nationalists “See America First,” they impressed upon the nation a new identity that was tied to the terrain within our own country. Tourism in America was officially launched and a new national spirit inspired citizens.

When rail travel was replaced with the personal automobile, Americans clambered in and took to the highways. Rising gas prices notwithstanding, then, as now, the American road trip was within reach of all classes. This summer, my family and I, along with millions of others, continued this tradition. Like other families across America, we stuck to a reasonable distance and explored our neighboring states.

Leaving the highway system and the warp speed it requires, we took to the back roads and slowed down, marveling that the life we saw passing our windows existed in the same country that we did. The diversity in life and landscape was dramatic.

Traveling through three different national parks gave me some interesting perspective. I found that I was incredible proud, not just of the breathtaking landscape, but of the foresight and ingenuity required to set aside such spectacular places. It was hard to remember that when these lands were set aside, land in America was plenty and the need to preserve and protect all but absent.

As we traveled through the national parks I marveled at the diversity I saw in such remote places. License plates from almost every state, many languages, and a smorgasbord of nationalities were represented at every visitor’s center and scenic overlook. I also found it interesting to see that despite the stunning vistas, human weaknesses were just as rampant. Tailgaters, pushy camera-toting tourists, and outright rudeness were abundant. Yet in the midst of such thoughtlessness towards other humans, everyone was incredible considerate towards the landscape. Somehow being in such wildness seemed to create an air of responsibility around almost every tourist I saw. It was as if we were all united behind one pulse of thought: protect this wild place.

It is no secret that the wild places and wild things of the world are shrinking. In many places on our trip, set in the middle of some of the most rugged country in our nation, cell reception was perfect and a mobile GPS unit could find me no matter what road I traveled.

Upon creation, the National Park Service was charged with providing pleasure for the American people while also keeping them “unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generations.” Such a mission statement is challenging at best, but after spending my summer vacation “Seeing America First,” I have to say it is well worth the effort. The identity of future generations of Americans may depend on it.

Previously published in "The Star," Grand Coulee, Washington. August 22, 2012

More than a medal

When the Olympics came to Atlanta, I was an impressionable 15-year-old involved in two different high school sports.  The day after Muhammad Ali famously lit the torch, my family and I were sweltering in the Atlanta heat, working a concession booth at the aquatic center.  It was thrilling for me as a young teenager to be at the very center of such an electric venue.  The atmosphere of any athletic event has some electricity to it, but the energy in an Olympic stadium sent sparks through the entire city. 

I felt lucky to be living in a city that hosted the Olympics, and even luckier to have a front row ticket for many of the aquatic events.  As I walked up and down the stands, selling frozen lemonade from an enormous bag draped around my neck, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t impacted by what I saw. 

The Olympics also came to Los Angeles when I was living there as a child and perhaps because of those combined first-hand experiences, along with the fact that I chose athletics over other pursuits in my formative years, I’ve always gotten a thrill of anticipation when the Olympics come around.  This year, I eagerly hunkered down with the rest of the country to watch our 529 athletes take their moment. 

Besides the remarkable athletic achievements the Olympics always inspires, I find the two weeks when the Games take place to be a moment in time when the world can draw together.  It is a singular worldwide event that is for something good and simple, for pure competition and gamesmanship.  And each time, I find that there is a hope, however small or naive, that we can come together for something as simple as a sport, something as innocent as winning a game or a race.  As a citizen, I have found watching the Olympics leaves me with an enormous sense of pride.  As a nation, we can rally around our athletes without worrying about crossing party lines, racial divisions, or socioeconomic separations.  It’s as simple and uncomplicated as cheering for an athlete of our country.

This is the first summer Olympic games that have transpired since I became a mother, and I find that this distinction has allowed me to see these incredible athletes through an even sharper lens.  In a world where our celebrities don’t often do anything to deserve the word, or the admiration we give them, I find these athletes have a lot to admire.  They offer up real role models for our children.   Coming from all across America, from every race and background, these kids are making their dreams solid and achievable. 

There is a lot our youth can learn from these incredible athletes: the pursuit of a goal, the intricacies of competition, how to lose gracefully and win modestly.  They can learn about what it takes to feed their bodies appropriately and how to use their minds to push their bodies beyond their limits.  There is the opportunity to learn how to interact with a team for a common goal, how to strategize and design for an achievement.  And perhaps most importantly, there is the chance to learn how to take pride in yourself for an accomplishment, no matter if there is a gold medal.  For the athlete that has taken 4^th or didn’t make it to the final, simply to make an Olympic team is an enormous achievement. 

Every four years when that torch is lit, I find that I can remember the thrill of the Olympics being in town, where dreams are sometimes measured in a matter of inches or hundredths of seconds.  I can now point to 529 new people of my own country and countless others around the world to admire and look up to.  I applaud the excess of courage it must take to follow a dream as far as the Olympics.  My hat is off to our athletes and eagerly await the lighting of the next torch.

Previously published in "The Star," Grand Coulee, Washington.  August 8, 2012