Mar_2008_pic_1
View

The Loss of American Identity

I have never been able to get it through my thick skull that one’s identity, culture, and national sovereignty should not stand in the way of making money.  For whatever reasons, I have always had a real attachment to my name, my family, my people, my place, my way of life.  I have never felt particularly malleable and certainly was never willing to compromise what I am for a dollar.  I wish I could say that this comes from a noble choice that I have made—that I would always choose principle over material gain.  It is far more elemental than that.  I am impelled by atavistic instincts to protect and defend what I am.  Because these feelings are so powerful and come from so deep within, I simply marvel at those who, with the carrot of money before them, transform themselves with the facility of a chameleon or accept change with alacrity.  I suppose I am destined to live out my days as an unreconstructed American, resisting globalism until I am graveyard dead.

California history offers compelling portraits of Americans who were willing to Hispanicize themselves for profit and those who were unwilling to do anything but fight to remain American.  The former were businessmen who came by sea from New England; the latter were frontiersmen who came overland from the Mississippi Valley.  I always identified with the latter; so, too, did my friends.  We could not help it. ...

Join now to access the full article and gain access to other exclusive features.

Get Started

Already a member? Sign in here

X