Fifty years ago, my small rural high school’s yearbook committee made a bold choice: A yearbook cover printed in color was unusual back then. And this was vivid color. The image wrapping front-to-back featured a bald eagle clutching the Stars and Stripes and a stylized U.S. Constitution with its bold heading of We the People. We were now The People. We were eager to honor our nation’s past as we ventured forth to build its future. 1776 to 1976. Two hundred years. We were the Bicentennial class, and it felt special.
This summer, members of the Class of ‘76 will return to their hometowns for 50th reunions. This year, we also mark the 250th anniversary of our nation’s declaration of independence from English rule. I’m still learning to pronounce Semiquincentennial.
I have mixed feelings about this 250th anniversary, and I’m not alone. Others in my life say they, too, feel weird about it. We love our country, but something feels off.
How did we get here? Let’s review.
To put 1976 in context, we have to back up a few years. The Class of ‘76 was born around 1958. U.S. military involvement in Vietnam escalated in 1965, and we grew up watching the war on the evening news. Elder siblings could be drafted to serve in the military before they could vote: The 26th Amendment, lowering the voting age from 21 to 18, was ratified when we were in middle school. We got driver’s licenses during the OPEC oil embargo. We were in high school when Vice President Spiro Agnew resigned and pleaded no contest to felony tax fraud. Gerald Ford, who served in the U.S. House of Representatives, became Vice President. Then, in 1974, the Watergate scandal led to President Richard Nixon’s resignation, and Ford became president. He remains the only person to have served as both president and vice president without being elected to either position.
The class of ‘76 came of age in this unprecedented chaos (sound familiar?). Our recent past was an open wound. So it was kind of a relief to look back 200 years to something we could feel good about – even if our democracy was never perfect.
Now we’re 50 years down the road. When I look back, there are years when personal rough patches and daily life overshadowed everything else going on in the world. But through it all, We the People witnessed history in the making. Three Mile Island. The Iranian revolution and hostage crisis. AIDS. Chernobyl. Iran-Contra. Tiananmen Square. The fall of the Berlin Wall. Exxon Valdez. Desert Storm. National Guard units deployed overseas. The Contract With America. The Oklahoma City bombing. Online newsgroups. Deregulation of telecommunications. Monica Lewinsky. Y2K. Hanging chads. 9/11. Enron. Afghanistan. Iraq. Weapons of Mass Destruction. Nope, no Weapons of Mass Destruction. Abu Ghraib. Hurricane Katrina. Warrantless surveillance of American citizens. The Patriot Act. The housing bubble. The bubble burst. The Great Recession. The auto industry bailout. Too big to fail. Bonuses for bailed-out executives. Citizens United. Osama bin Laden. The debt ceiling. Sandy Hook. Social media. Fiscal cliffs. Filibuster rules.
And the last 10 years? I keep waking up hoping I’m Bobby Ewing in the shower, realizing it was all a bad dream (IYKYK).
I sympathize with those who feel weird about this Semiquincentennial when We the People haven’t exactly created a more perfect union. Justice, domestic tranquility, and the blessings of liberty have taken some hard hits lately. And to be honest, a lot of what I saw in the lead-up to Semiquincentennial season felt like shopping lists. As if wearing made-in-China red, white, and blue merch proves patriotism better than an I Voted sticker.
Feeling weird about stuff is pretty much the human condition. I feel weird about missing my class’s 50th reunion, but I know those old friends will have fun without me. It was a fun group, and I’ve enjoyed reliving memories captured in the pages of that yearbook. Thespians. Sports. Band. Chorus. Classes. Dances. Clubs. Teachers. Faces familiar 50 years ago. Names to which many of the girls haven’t answered in nearly that long.
Inside the colorful cover of my 1976 yearbook, there really weren’t any overt references to the coincidence of dates that meant we graduated in a year with a special name and special meaning. The focus inside was not on the Bicentennial but on people and community.
Maybe we could all remember that during this Semiquincentennial. Our communities include people who love their country but not the commemorative coins. That’s not unpatriotic. You can love a star-spangled party and also support the right to assemble at a No Kings March. I’m pretty sure the original Sam Adams would have been up for both.
When the Class of 2026 reflects on the 50 years between their Semiquincentennial and the Tricentennial in 2076, I hope they can celebrate the resilient democracy our founders helped create and generations since have worked to preserve. Even if it was never perfect.
I think that’s worthy of celebration. Even now. Even if it’s just a moment to give thanks for living in interesting times.
Even if it feels weird.
Donna Kallner writes from Langlade County in rural northern Wisconsin.
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