US…Eh?
or, “Patriotism & the Olympic Games”
“Patriotism is your conviction that this country is superior to all other countries because you were born in it.”
— George Bernard Shaw
Right now is the best time of every four years. The 2014 Winter Olympics are just a few days old, and I couldn’t be happier. I am so incredibly proud to be an American, where at least I know my country will rank in the top three in the overall medal count. I love snow and skiing and any cold-weather athletic competition—especially when it pits national teams against each other. I love watching sports and seeing skilled competitors struggle with one another, but the Olympics have an extra value because there are 300+ million other people who can get behind the same athletes I support, and the variety of exhibitions from the brutal (cross-country skiing) to the extreme (snowboarding) to the artistic (figure skating) run the gamut of competition, allowing spectators of all bents to watch and enjoy. For 18 glorious days, all Americans can scale back to our lowest common denominator—patriotism.
What does it mean to identify as an American? What does it mean to be patriotic? Patriotism as defined by the dictionary is “loyalty to and unwavering support of one’s country”, however, as George Bernard Shaw cynically stated, patriotism can be seen as a terrible unit of measure. He says patriotic identity is merely a guise for inflated self-importance and egoism. Is our American pride simply a result of where we’re born, a reality that rests beyond our effectual reach? What should we make of this — does patriotism have a defensible foundation?
I mentioned that our lowest common denominator as Americans was our patriotism, which is close to accurate in the realm of sports. One could make a case for humanity striving to run tangent to its collective natural limitations as the most basic form of athletic challenge. Running, for example, a staple of the Olympic Games since their inception in Greece, is a primal event. The 100 meter dash is as basic as it gets, with no complicated rules or regulations, just push your body to go as fast as it can, and humanity cheers when a new record is set. But other than those unique instances, and outside objective human achievement, the biggest “teams” we form are determined by nationality, and those teams share no bigger stage than the Olympics.
But the Olympic Games are also a great example of coming together in unity. This is the paradox of the Games—the opening ceremony often instructs us to put aside our differences and sing John Lennon’s “Imagine” together, and then the next day we begin to fight. There is a recognition of friendly challenge which stems from “universal brotherhood”, and in contrast to our usual warring state, the nations of the world strike a healthy balance between comradeship and competition. As David Mathis put so well:
“There’s a bigness to the Olympiad that captivates us. It comes with a kind of transcendence that taps into a profound longing in the human soul. On display are the world’s best athletes, and most impressive humans, from most of the globe’s geopolitical nations. The world’s eye fixed on a single object as is rarely the case outside of war. From our limited vantage, few things seem to bring out humanity’s oneness, and feel as globally significant in such a good way, as the Olympic Games.
How do we balance the sense of “oneness” with our national pride? Maybe Shaw is right, and patriotism is a fairly unimportant social construct, not to be leaned on. But I think it is a good thing because it shadows the deeper questions of belonging and citizenship, which are not unimportant social constructs. Those questions are some of the fundamental questions of life.
At the end of the day, Shaw’s critique, whether right or wrong, may not even apply to the “Olympic” brand of patriotism, since this brand is somewhat unique to the global, amicable competition we find at the Games. Shaw says our sense of superiority is basically baseless, but of course the United States has objectively displayed its dominance in international athletic competition, and has earned its reputation as home of elite athletes.
To Chinese writer Lin Yutang’s quote, “What is patriotism but the love of the good things we ate in our childhood?” I would add “the admiration of the disciplined men and women who we watched represent our country with excellence at the Olympic Games.” I defend my sense of patriotism boldly. You will hear “#teamUSA” from me, unashamedly. I support our athletes in their endeavors, and look up to them for their dedication to their sport. I find the competition inspiring and I love the stories that are weaved into the athletic activity. As Team USA shares the spotlight of the world stage with the world’s best, I will watch as much as I can and sleep it off in March. What can I say? I am proud to be an American.
Winter Olympic Reflections That Didn’t Fit:
- I am Scandinavian by heritage, almost exclusively Swedish and Norwegian. Much more than the Summer Games, Winter is the habitat of my ancestors. The toughness of the Nordic people is developed by ice and snow. I obviously love watching Team USA clean up in the medal count, but I also love seeing Sweden and Norway compete and succeed.
- I love mountains. I always have. I love skiing, but not cross-country skiing…it seems absurd to me that anyone would choose to ski over flat land when they can careen down the side of majestic mountaintops.
- One of my favorite Winter Olympics related tweets I’ve read lately:
