In recent weeks, historians, public scholars, and other interested folks on social media have been discussing the upcoming 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence and the founding of the United States, prompted in part by a thoughtful Atlantic Monthly article from Beverly Gage on America’s identity crisis. Gage prompts us to consider whether we will have a collective appetite to commemorate this historic anniversary at all, and if so whether those events will feature only idealized visions of the founding or whether they can include more nuanced dialogue about our histories. And as with everything in late 2024, both Gage’s essay and the broader discussions have linked that debate to the election and the nation’s seemingly deepening partisan divides; how would a Harris or a Trump administration commemorate the 250th anniversary?
There’s no doubt that next week’s election will profoundly influence how these conversations develop over the next two years and far beyond. But despite any immediate outcomes, I believe that the dualities at the heart of this debate are deeper and more defining than the divide between left and right. The truly fundamental question is: What do we talk about when we talk about America?
Two Defining Dualities

Two longstanding dualities that best help us understand competing visions and definitions of American identity are a pair of interconnected debates: The debate between mythic and critical patriotism and the debate between exclusion and inclusion.
At the center of my most recent book, Of Thee I Sing: The Contested History of American Patriotism (2021), is this debate between mythic and critical patriotism. Mythic patriotism relies on an idealized vision of American history and identity and defines any who challenge those myths as unpatriotic, while critical patriotism offers a critique of the ways the nation has fallen short of its ideals in an effort to push us closer to that more perfect union. In this column, I argued that the participants in and forces behind the January 6th insurrection embodied multiple layers of mythic patriotism; while in this one, I pointed to the long history of African American critical patriotism, from Frederick Douglass to Martin Luther King Jr., James Baldwin to Colin Kaepernick.

In my other recent book, We the People: The 500-Year Battle Over Who is American (2019), I focus on the debate between exclusion and inclusion. As I wrote in this column, 2024 represents the 100th anniversary of moments that exemplify these exclusionary and inclusionary sides to who we’ve always been; namely the 1924 Immigration Act and its discriminatory quota system versus the 1924 Indian Citizenship Act, which extended American citizenship to Native Americans.
These dualities of mythical vs. critical patriotism and exclusion vs. inclusion are what I’m talking about when I talk about the worst and best of America. Much of my work for Considering History has engaged with those two sides, so here I’ll just share four further examples of each.
The Worst of America
- Anti-Immigrant Myths Have Been Strikingly Consistent — and Consistently Wrong: No American communities have been targeted by exclusionary narratives more than immigrants, and those narratives have always been both inaccurate and backwards about these inspiring American communities.
- Sundown Towns, Racism, and Exclusion: Racial violence and terrorism targeting African Americans have likewise always been driven by exclusionary goals, by attempts to remake American communities into homogeneous white supremacist enclaves.
- The 1893 Hawaiian Coup and the Realities of American Expansion: As the United States has expanded, across the continent and around the world, that process has consistently depended on exclusionary visions and treatment of the peoples whose land the nation is enveloping.
- Wamsutta James, Thanksgiving, and the National Day of Mourning: No American exclusion was more destructive than that of indigenous communities. As we approach the Thanksgiving holiday, it’s vital to recognize Wamsutta James’ alternative concept of a National Day of Mourning.
The Best of America
- Black-Owned Businesses Reflect the Best of American History: An inclusive vision of America doesn’t just mean acknowledging our foundational and defining diversity — it requires that ideals such as opportunity and the American Dream are truly achievable for all Americans, such as Black business owners.
- AAPI Medal of Honor Recipients Exemplify the Best of America: No American community has been more consistently diverse than those who have served the nation in our military, yet many of those stories are under-remembered.
- Celebrate Freedom by Reading a Banned Latino or LGBTQ+ Book: One of the most frustrating forms of exclusion are attempts to limit or ban what American students read and learn. More inclusive reading lists and curricula help us celebrate the best of our authors and stories, communities and histories.
- Six Inspiring Figures from American History to Be Thankful For: The Thanksgiving holiday presents an opportunity for an important form of inclusion: expressing gratitude for those figures from across all American communities who have fought for the best of our ideals.
On a recent road trip, I happened by chance to stop for breakfast at The Corner Restaurant in Milford, Connecticut. Their website doesn’t exaggerate, as this was one of the tastiest breakfasts I’ve ever eaten. And that deliciousness is interconnected with the amazing and distinctly American diversity of their menu: South Indian spiced duck and African hash, Malaysian pulled pork and a Mexican breakfast, Cajun blackened eggs and Vermont maple syrup. When we talk about America, that’s what we’re talking about: the inclusive best that resists exclusionary myths and truly makes us great.
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