Am I Proud to be an American?
Patriotism is the virtue proper to this birthright, and rightly understood, it's rooted in civic friendship oriented toward the common good.
May the wretched invasion of half-naked trans-identifying strippers never breach the White House lawn again. Since President Trump returned to the White House, there was no federal “Pride 2026” proclamation in June, no rainbow flags on national buildings, and Title IX Month was recognized once again.
The administration focused celebratory efforts toward America’s semiquincentennial instead of recognizing the grotesque forms of sexual representation that we suffered under previous administrations. It’s worth mentioning, too, that corporate Pride visibility declined again, for the second year in a row. Comparatively, the month of June took on a new perspective regarding what “pride by association” really means.
Ever since the LGBT movement completely co-opted the word, America has had a weird relationship with pride. We’re meant to feel loud, boisterous pride at our sexual proclivities while feeling ashamed at the very country in which we’re parading our rainbow flags. But as that gruesome era winds down, the idea of pride itself is worth revisiting. On its own, pride isn’t a bad thing. In fact, in some cases it’s crucial (for a republic such as ours, we certainly need more of it). But what kind of pride does a republic ask of its citizens?
In Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, he describes vanity as the vice that elevates the self beyond what is warranted in human nature. In theological tradition, pride is a capital sin, the root of all sin, and the origin of human separation from God. Yet some forms of pride are not simply self-serving, as in pride in another’s excellence: a parent celebrating a child, for example. This differs from pride in self-identity. When a culture hinges pride on identity, it does not merely elevate group identity; it enshrines a vice as a virtue. Never mind pride as a political affiliation; it is a philosophical disposition of the soul.
Sexual identity, as the Left frames it, is a self-authored discovery liberating people from the oppression of traditional biology — particularly in the case of trans-identifying people. Their identity is understood only through acting on impulses rooted in desire and pleasure.
The American identity is unchosen. It is a birthright, inherited through the sacrifice and service of those who established and protected the land, along with those who continue to do so. What binds Americans is association with a people, but that association is bestowed, not discovered through sexual experience. Those who choose to come to the U.S. make choices their subsequent generations will inherit.
The moral posture of pride in sexual identity and in association with the LGBTQ community is fundamentally different from pride in one’s American identity. What you choose invites pride in self, but what you inherit demands humility. I did nothing to earn being an American. Others bled and died for it. That is not an occasion for pride; rather, it is an occasion for honor.
Therefore, patriotism is the virtue proper to this birthright, and patriotism, rightly understood, is rooted in civic friendship oriented toward the common good. Notice: It’s not tribalistic groupthink. Patriotism is the appropriate response toward this unchosen heritage, as it’s humble, relational, and outward.
In George Washington’s famous farewell address, he explained: “The name of American, which belongs to you in your national capacity, must always exalt the just pride of patriotism more than any appellation derived from local discriminations.” He recognizes this pride as honor rooted in recognition of foundational principles instead of simple self-elevation in a common identity.
When I say I am proud to be an American, I mean that I am honored by an inheritance I didn’t earn. It’s rooted in the humility of association, recognizing that sacrifice animates my identity. Many have laid down their lives or offered their service for my freedom; recognition of their excellence demands my honor, not my own self-pride.
Both sides of the political aisle have weaponized what “proud to be an American” means. Many would say they have no pride in the displays of sexual deviance across the country during June; others have regarded the UFC Freedom 250 on the White House lawn with the same disdain. This is the wrong frame entirely. The American identity does not ask you to approve the status quo. It asks you to be bound by foundational principles and to recognize the inheritance received from those who came before. Patriotism is an action animated by the virtue of your birthright, duty, service, and sacrifice, not by pleasure and self-discovery.
The Trump administration’s symbolic changes make it clear that pride, as it has been understood by previous administrations, is not the right posture. Instead, this celebration of our nation’s history is rooted in the “just pride of patriotism,” and it’s animated by gratitude, civic camaraderie, and humility.
On this, our 250th Independence Day, don’t be proud simply because you are an American. Be gobsmacked by it. Be honored. By the end of all that, I’ll bet you’ll be a patriot.
