Martians in tricorn hats

Fifty years ago, the country was consumed with preparing for America’s upcoming Bicentennial in 1976. Advertisements were flooded with guys dressed as Ben Franklin or Minutemen. Red, white, and blue everything was everywhere.

In class, our days were spent learning about the founders and what brave heroes they were, conveniently — you’ll excuse the turn of phrase — whitewashing or ignoring the fact that many of them owned enslaved people. At school programs, our parents beamed proudly as we belted out patriotic songs while wearing tricorn hats made from black construction paper.

I swallowed it all: hook, line, and sinker. I wore that paper hat everywhere, until it finally ripped beyond repair. My hope was that others would join me and start sporting theirs — even when we weren’t performing. It would be a spirited effort — nay! a revolution! —  to bring the hats back into fashion.

But I didn’t stop there. One day, my dad gave me a large goose feather he found on the golf course. I promptly inserted an ink tube from a Bic pen into the calamus, the hollow part of the feather, so I could write with a quill. And if that wasn’t odd enough, at a family reunion, I even recited (from heart) the preamble of the Declaration of Independence to my bemused adult relatives, most of whom were first-generation Americans. We hold these truths to be self-evident…

Back then, everything was exciting, and the possibilities were endless. If you had asked me what I thought life would be like in 2025, I’d have enthusiastically predicted that we’d have amazing technologies to make our lives easier, flying cars, and colonies on Mars. Well, one out of three isn’t bad. I was right about technology.

But what will it be like in another 50 years? Assuming the Republic is still standing, Americans will be busying themselves preparing for a 300th birthday celebration for the nation. Kelly and I will be long gone. Even our boys will probably be grandfathers. But I can’t help wondering what kind of country they’ll live in.

Maybe it’s that optimism instilled in me during the Bicentennial, but I think the Tricentennial will celebrate a country in which everyone has equal rights. No one will care if a dude wants to marry another dude. No one will consider a two-mom family “untraditional.” And nobody will give a second thought to what bathroom you use.

Indeed, I see an America in which same-gender parents are pretty commonplace. Obnoxious aunts will ask newly married gay couples when they plan to have kids. Uncles lacking boundaries will quiz their lesbian nieces about turkey basters.

It’ll be a place where queer kids are safe. One in which no one is forced from their home by their parents or told they need to “change” by their church leaders.

This America, older and hopefully wiser, is one where teachers and coaches use whatever pronouns are requested. It will be a country that cherishes and celebrates all its kids.

Maybe it’s the nation that the founders hoped for. Yeah, obviously, it won’t be exactly as they had envisioned, but it will reflect the reality of 2075 and the spirit of what those men were hoping to accomplish.

Fifty years down the road, when kids in schools around the country are practicing patriotic songs and growing increasingly excited about the Tricentennial, maybe some enthusiastic child will recite (by heart) the preamble from the Declaration. Who knows, maybe he’ll change one single word, that all people are created equal…

Oh, I really do hope there are colonies on Mars. And I sure as hell hope those colonists wear tricorn hats!