Today is Independence Day – July 4th. As it does every year on this day, my local newspaper published the full text of the Declaration of Independence. I’m really getting sappy and sentimental in my old age, darlings! Reading it over my morning coffee brought tears to my eyes. This is going to sound more like a paeon to Thanksgiving Day than July 4th, but it’s suitable to think about all the wonderful things that being a citizen of this country affords me.
I am FREE to worship as I please – or not - with no one holding a figurative (or literal) gun to my head to make me practice a particular religion. I am FREE to work in my chosen profession, to have a fulfilling career, and make a decent living at it. I have not been deprived of my right to seek an education, decent housing, vote or work simply because I am a woman. I have not been sexually mutilated simply because I am a woman. I have a loving, healthy family and great friends all around me, and a wonderful man who – despite all warnings to the contrary, loves me very much - and we’re all busy seeking our own particular paths to happiness and fulfillment – being FREE to do so! I have a nice home that I had built just for myself and paid for out of my own wages, and a beautiful yard that I designed and labored over and continue to work on – my gardens are a joy, this is my own little piece of Paradise. Despite unceasing reports of violent crime in the USA I do not own a gun, I have never taken a class in self-defense, and I do not fear to walk down the streets, take public transportation or to go about my daily routine.
I have as much clean water as I need – just by turning the taps, to drink, cook with and to bathe in; I have an excess abundance of foods and products to choose from at the supermarket, I can afford to eat meat and fresh vegetables and drink milk every day, if I wish. I have access to the best medical care in the world and I don’t worry about how I’m going to pay for it. If I want some new clothes or new shoes or a new crock pot, I go out and buy them – no problem – there are thousands of choices I can make just by travelling to the mall a mile away. Or I can simply order things online! It’s hot and muggy here today; with the flick of a switch I turn on central air conditioning and have cool dry air to comfort me; in the winter with the flick of a switch, I have heat.
I am FREE to argue as much or as little (or not at all) as I want about politics, religion, the price of gasoline and property taxes and public education, and I have no fear that I will be thrown in jail because of the views I express (despite George W. Bush’s best efforts and, thank goddess, he’ll be out of office soon).
Well, I could go on and on – but I think you get the point! I am one LUCKY woman. I could have been born in Saudi Arabia, or Afghanistan, or Ghana. But I was born and raised in the USA – and I have a wonderful life in no small part just because of that fact!
I will never forget one night in Amsterdam, at the end of November, 2001, where I was attending a symposium of chess historians. We had a gala dinner evening and I chatted with attendees to my right, and to my left, and across the table too (we Americans have such bad manners, but they seemed to like me anyway). As the long meal progressed and as more drinks and beer were consumed, conversation loosened. The very nice gentleman to my right, who was a director at the Max Euwe Centrum where the symposium was being held, said I must be very very rich! I said no, not at all, I’m just a middle class person. But, he said, you must be rich, you own your own home – a big home. No, I said, it’s not so big, just about 1,600 square feet. He said, that is a BIG house, and you have three bedrooms and two bathrooms, and a driveway and a garage big enough to hold two cars, and a big yard. Well, I said, it’s not all that big, it’s much smaller than average, actually, but I like it. And, he said, you live there all by yourself, shaking his head in disbelief. Yes, I said, that’s correct. You have no idea, he said, how rich you are. But, I said, you have a house too. Yes, he said, I do. It is a townhouse, with houses on either side, that go on block after block. There is no land, you see, for such gardens as you describe. And we do not have a garage, because we do not own a car, although some of the houses have put garages into the basements. But most people will not do that, only the very rich can afford to do that and one has to give up so much living space. Just for a car, no no. Only the very wealthy who own homes out in the country, have such a house and land as you describe, and most of them are not new, but are old, very old. And, until they died a few years ago, our parents shared the house with us, we could not have afforded to buy it otherwise.
Well, I said, I guess I am rich.
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