I Never Thought I’d Do This

 If you’ve been reading some of my recent posts, you know that I am very critical about the history of the country in which I’ve spent most of my life. At least, I have (some would say more-than-) healthy skepticism about the stories we’ve been told, whether in school or elsewhere.

That doesn’t mean, however, that I don’t appreciate what the United States of America offers, or even love much of what makes it unique. I’ll even admit that in international sports competitions, I root for American teams and athletes, especially the women. And, yes, I was as happy as any fellow countryperson (No sexism here!) when Greg LeMond and Lance Armstrong won the Tour de France. At least, I was a fan of Lance and, yes, even wore a Livestrong bracelet (remember that?) until I learned what a cheater and pure-and-simple bully he was.

Yesterday, however, I put my loyalty on pause.  Perhaps it wasn’t entirely fair, as I also found myself rooting against innocent people who worked very hard to achieve what they did.

So what, exactly, was my breach of sports patriotism—or, more accurately, nationalism? I hoped that Belgium’s national football team would beat their Yankee counterparts in their Round of 16 World Cup game.  And I was happy when they did.

Now, I want to make this clear:  I have no more love for Belgium than I have hatred for the United States. I enjoyed my one brief trip through the county, as part of a bicycle tour that took me into northeastern France, southwestern Germany, the Netherlands and Luxembourg. The people treated me well and, for such a small country, it offers a lot historically and culturally. But I don’t imagine that I will ever develop the kind of bond with it that I have even with France, let alone the US.

I also want to make something else clear: I don’t feel the same joy over a Red Devils victory that, under different circumstances, I might’ve felt if the USMNT had won. Rather, I thought, if anything, the outcome was a kind of vindication. 

Folarin Balogun was issued a red card late in the USMNT’s victory over Bosnia-Herzegovina’s national team. I won’t get into whether or not he actually deserved it; that will be a point of debate for some time to come.  He did, however, accept his penalty, which would have meant that he wouldn’t have been allowed to play in the game against Belgium.

The USMNT appealed, as was their right—though, it must be said, such decisions are rarely reversed.  The last word of the previous sentence is the operative one and the current FIFA president, Gianni Infantino, is, shall we say, not seen as an ethical man, which is really saying something in a sports federation that isn’t exactly viewed as a paragon of high moral principles.

So, perhaps, it’s no surprise that he’s a friend of the Fake Tan Führer, a.k.a., the White House Squatter. In a fashion that’s so typical of him, he “influenced “ his compagno to “suspend” the decision for a one-year probationary period.

Perhaps it didn’t matter, at least in sporting terms, as having Balogun in their starting XI wasn’t enough to hold off a team that’s looking for a monumental triumph before its current “golden generation” of players retires. And I feel bad for the rest of the US team, as they won’t be able to enjoy further triumphs on their home turf. (Sports journalists usually say that teams are “going home” when they lose.  Where is the USMNT—or, for that matter, Canada’s or Mexico’s team, who also lost in the Round of 16–going?)

And, more to the point, where is this world going if FTF can bully, not only sports officials, but the rest of the world? That he is the face (literally) my country made me, at least for a day, ashamed to root for something else that represents it.

What Did Your Bike Look Like Yesterday?

 Here’s a 4th of July bike decorating contest unlike any other:

250 And A Long Way To Go

 

Yesterday I wrote about how I remember the summer when I graduated high school: a haze of long, hot days. Today is like one of those days. I took another early morning ride to City Island, where I saw only a couple taking selfies (couplies?) against a marine backdrop.

The summer after I graduated high school, though it seemed to be a procession of days like this one, also happened to be the US Bicentennial.  People seemed to celebrate it more than they’re celebrating this, the 250th. Part of the reason, I believe, is that the president whom I shall not name is trying to make it all about him, as if the signing of the Declaration of Independence wouldn’t have happened without him. While some people follow him like cult members, many more are ashamed that he is the (scowling, glowering, leering) face of this country.  Not many people were crazy about Gerald Ford, the bicentennial president, but I think it had more to do with the circumstances that brought him into the office than his policies (such as they were) or personality.

But I think there is another reason for this year’s less-festive mood.  Perhaps I am projecting my own journey in saying what I am about to say, but here goes:  While the MAGA crowd wants to “return” to a white heterosexual male-dominated Christian (their version, at least) society —as if that ever existed—more of us are aware of the rape, genocide, plunder and other crimes that helped, along with the principles enumerated in the Declaration of Independence and Constitution, to forge this country.  

At the time of the Bicentennial, I only knew of the history I’d been taught and whatever it would enable me to learn on my own. To be fair, that is probably as much as my teachers knew because that is what was taught to them.

Of the 2767 students in my high school, perhaps two dozen were Black and even fewer were Asian, Hispanic or Native American.  And Rutgers, which I would attend after that summer, wasn’t nearly as diverse as it is now. So I had —I was going to say  “fewer opportunities,” but I now realize “less reason” would be more accurate—to question, not only what I had learned, but the perspective from which it had been taught.

So today is for me, as a transgender woman who has friends of races, nations and cultures different from my own—and a cyclist in an auto-centric society—a reminder that there is still a long, long way to go in achieving anything like a fair and just society-and that we still have the tools to accomplish that.