I write this on the Fourth of July, 2026.

Our "semi-quincentennial", a word nobody appeared to know until the past six months, but is now bandied about regularly.

I have thoughts.

I am old enough to have been around for the bicentennial, though I was too young at the time to have any memories of it. That said, it lived in the cultural milieu throughout my childhood. Bicentennial quarters were cherished and saved. People talked with pride about a country that had inspired other countries to join our experiment in democracy.

We'd had an exciting decade or more coming into the bicentennial. There were the stains on our national soul of the war in Vietnam, the protests, and the brutal response to the protests by the goverment; the threatened impeachment and finally resignation, of Nixon; the beginning of the war on drugs (a Nixon initiative, based both in racism and to push back on the anti-war movement).

But there were also the triumphs. The civil rights movement illuminated our deeply racist system, and forged a path towards something better: desegregation, voting rights, justice reforms. Women pushed back on a patriarchal system, winning financial emancipation and a place at the table. The Stonewall riots brought attention to the injustices against the LGBTQ+ community, paving the way for a more inclusive society. Important programs like the EPA (one of the few good things Nixon accomplished), HUD, and others were created that put the needs of the people above those that would extract wealth.

None of these were fully successful, none of them perfect. But they showed us that we, as a nation, could do better, that there was room for change that would benefit us all, that we could become a more perfect union.

Change took time. I remember the rampant homophobia, ubiquitous sexism, blatant racism, and more of the 1980s. But I also got to gradually see queer people represented in our media, and the legalization of gay marriage. I got to see the normalization of women not just in the workplace, but in leadership positions.

None of these were perfect. Women still only earn 3 cents to every 4 a man makes. Trans folk receive unnecessary and repugnant hate. Racism has never left us, unfortunately; we are a deeply racist society.

I had huge hope during the Obama years. Creation of the ACA, the CFPB, legalization of gay marriage, DACA, policies to address climate change — these all felt like we were finally, truly, starting to see the fruits of the seeds we had planted around the bicentennial.

But even back in the 1970s, many observed these seeds of change and said, "Nope, not having it." And they started planning how to reverse all of it, playing a long game. Building up a pipeline of not just conservative, but regressive, lawmakers and judiciary candidates. Slowly building out a right-wing, counter narrative media that would use fear — fear of change, fear of the "other" — to capture minds and push political agendas. They would claim they were working towards smaller government, or states rights, but the reality was they were consolidating power and preparing to impose the system they wanted on the rest of us.

Reagan's policies were racist and homophobic, but there was still room for dissent in the Republican party, and individual lawmakers would take and act on input from their constituents. The Heritage Foundation was created to push conservative polices and ideals, but was one among many think tanks of the era. But then Newt Gingrich introduced his "contract with America" during the early 1990s, and suddenly any Republican that didn't vote in lock-step with the GOP platform risked being primaried. Fox News launched, claiming a "fair and balanced" coverage which, from the outset, was just pushing conservative view points. 9/11 happened, and the right used it as an opportunity to push draconian legislation that eroded our rights. And even during the Obama administration, they were able to capture the Senate, and McConnell wielded this power to prevent voting on legislative reforms, culminating in a refusal to hold confirmation hearings for a Supreme Court justice.

And then the mess of the last 10 years, as Trump and the MAGA movement have fully captured the GOP and used the levers of power to make the demands of a minority population the law of the land.

They didn't plant seeds. They sharpened axes and threshers, and used them to cut down the hopes and dreams we'd planted.

So here we are, 50 years later, and I don't want to celebrate.

I'm angry.

I'm not and have never been a radical far-left progressive. Liberal, definitely, Perhaps a bit progressive. But I think most on the radical left would consider me fairly bourgeois.

But I have found that over time, I've become more accepting and inclusive. And part of that is realizing that government exists to help people. It's not a business, and should not be run as one. Ideally, it should help ensure everyone has opportunity to thrive, and that means ensuring we have food, housing, access to health care. That those of us who need assistance — assistance with mobility, accommodations for the un-sighted or deaf, translators for those speaking languages other than English — have access.

Somehow, today, that makes me a radical leftist, which just shows how far right the center has moved in 50 years.

We're in an era where a minority has taken power, and thinks that none of that is important, that the only thing of import is ensuring they can extract as much value as possible to line their own pockets and those of their cronies.

So no, I'm not celebrating today. I'm mourning the rights taken away from us, and the saplings that were chopped down before they could flourish.

And I'm hoping it's not too late to replant and protect those seeds.