It seems as if every four years I get hit by the nagging question of what defines an American.
Presidential elections always bring up this issue. This time around, we got a dose of rhetoric that struggled to define American ethics and ideals.
President Bill Clinton promised to build a bridge to the future, but I wonder who he thinks will actually cross it.
The campaign trail to the White House was full of images of flag waving people who shoved their babies into a candidate's face for a kiss. Are these the people who will design that "bridge?"
Or will politicians consider the ideals of people who come from cultures where football isn't worshipped and spirituality isn't represented by a man on a cross or a Star of David?
Some light was shed on these questions when I witnessed a Hindu funeral on a moonlit night at Ocean Beach last week.
I saw a group of 15 women dressed in colorful saris, circling an altar of marigolds and candles in a simple dance of prayer. After the women bowed to the ground, a procession of men carried the marigolds to the ocean along with Safeway bags full of coconuts, fruit and flowers.
They walked to the shore illuminated by the headlights of a mini-van and the women sang from the sea wall until the men returned from the ocean wet and shining. After scattering a relative's ashes into the ocean, they left their offerings and then drove away in minivans and mid-sized sedans.
It struck me that they prayed and danced and scattered ashes the way their ancestors must have done in India centuries before them.
But they got into their automobiles and drove home like full-blooded modern Americans. I imagined them sitting in their living rooms watching Seinfeld and eating microwave popcorn.
I had witnessed a sacred and ancient ceremony performed in the midst of a modern culture that seems to exploit the profane. What I saw confirmed for me that true divinity and devotion does exist in America.
It comes from far away lands and lives in immigrants who come to America to build new futures. Ancient cultures thrive in modern cities across the nation, but they go unnoticed by politicians who define Americans with limited palettes.
These flat portraits have never captured my experience in America. I was raised in Miami where Spanish is essential, and where Cubans practice the Yoruba religion of Santeria.
I wonder whether President Clinton, Bob Dole, or any other politician ever thinks of the Hindus and Santeros when they say the word "American" in their speeches.
Now that Clinton has claimed his place as the last American president of this millennium, his bridge to the future is officially under construction. I only hope that we will cross it with an accurate assessment of who we are as Americans. Only then will we get a clue as to where we're headed and maybe all these questions of ethics and morality will be put to rest.
[ Golden Gater - November 7, 1996 ]
All Rights Reserved © 1996 HTML by Steve Thoemke (sthoemke@nermal.santarosa.edu)