By Jennifer Vanasco

I’m a patriot.

When I say this, my friends usually either roll their eyes or pat my hand and say, “Yes, dear, we know.”

In other words, they accept my patriotism because they love me, but not because they think it’s the right (or even a tolerable) position, and certainly not because they are patriots themselves.

Lately I’ve been thinking about patriotism a lot, because I’ve spent the past month in Charlottesville, Virginia, visiting my mom’s new house. The Charlottesville area is lousy with famous patriots—mostly dead, like Jefferson, Madison and Monroe.

But being there inspired me to do a lot of reading on our Founding Fathers and Mothers and I realized anew how exciting our American compact is—how fragile, how rife with disagreement and disenchantment, how infused with uncertainty and hope.

To me, being a patriot captures all of that: A love of country, a commitment to making America better and more equal than it is, a concern that all is not as it should be, a strong belief that advancement is achieved through debate and dissent.

I am a patriot, but in the liberal enclaves I move in, patriotism is for other people—usually conservative people. Liberals are rarely seen as patriots—and except for politicians and people who worked for the fictional President Bartlett of “The West Wing,” it’s not how most of us see ourselves.

We liberals often see patriotism as a joke or as a refuge for the simple-minded. Maybe that’s because liberals seem to be expected to regard other countries as being superior. Indeed, it’s true that other countries always do something better than the United States.

But instead of seeing other countries as the places that get it right and America as the place that gets it wrong, I prefer to view other countries as models for what is possible here.

So yes, Canada (and France, and Sweden and the U.K.) has a better health care system; yes, I wish we had something similar. But no, I don’t want to be Canadian (or French or Swedish or British). If I wanted to be Canadian, I’d move to Canada.

My friends tend to be liberal and I’m liberal, too, but we define what it means to be liberal differently. I know this must be true because twice recently in online publications I’ve been referred to as a conservative writer, and it rankles. 

“But, but,” I wanted to stutter, “I’m for active government, like universal health care! And yes, I’m for marriage, but liberals are for marriage now, as long as we’re talking about gay marriage. And I’m for teaching sex ed to kindergarteners and am cool with polyamory (though not for my own partner) and I’ve voted Democratic since I was 18 (well, except for the one year I voted Republican in the primary to try and help defeat a virulently anti-gay candidate who won anyway despite my sacrifice). And I’m a feminist.”

I always expect “I’m a feminist” to be my liberal trump card.

But no. Once you say “I’m a patriot,” then no one believes that you’re a feminist anymore.

But I’m both.

Some queer folks (including colleagues I respect) think that being patriotic is a betrayal. But I think it is the ultimate liberal position, because it recognizes the inequalities of the world by showing gratitude for the accident of birth that made us citizens.

America is not like other countries. I am lucky to be here. And because it is pure luck, I have an obligation to others to help them get the same benefits, rights and equality of opportunity that is offered to me.

I am not a patriot because America is perfect. I’m not naive. There is too much poverty in our rich, rich country; there is too much discrimination over differences that should make no difference, like color and sexual orientation.

But I believe that what our founders gave us is more than a flag, an anthem and a declaration of independence. They gave us a tradition of debate and dissent and a process that allows for change, no matter how gradual and frustrating that process might seem.

We all want to be right, but the point of a democracy is that no one is right all the time. We are not given the power to always be right. We are only given the opportunity to prove that our cause is a good one, and eventually, if we convince enough people, our cause will win over lesser causes.

So, I’m a patriot. I’m as proud of my country as I am that I’m gay. And go ahead and roll your eyes if you need to, but I’ll still be there, cheerily whistling “God Bless America” and visiting the homes of dead presidents.

Jennifer Vanasco is a gay patriot and an award-winning, syndicated columnist. Read her daily political blogging at Logo Online’s website at VisibleVote08.com and email her at jennifer.vanasco@gmail.com.