By Brooke Bates   bbates@dnronline.com

Kendra Shickel’s house reminds her of American history. The Mount Crawford house, built in the early 1800s, makes her think of the founding fathers who fought for independence a few years before its construction.

Now, with the Fourth of July around the corner, Shickel reflects on how patriotism has changed in her house’s lifetime, concluding that flag-fueled fervor isn’t the only sign of American pride.

Though patriotism strikes different notes for different folks — from stars and stripes to military service — the freedom to claim different definitions of the word is really what makes America proud.

Proud to disagree
One of the freedoms that founded America, Shickel says, is the freedom to disagree.

“In a simple sense, what [patriotism] means is to support your country when you feel it’s doing the right thing,” says Bob Roberts, a professor of political science at James Madison University. “You have to make a personal decision whether [policies are] morally correct.”

And because people disagree about what’s right for the country, they disagree about patriotism. Most agree that it’s love of and loyalty to one’s country. But can you love a country and disagree with its decisions?

Yes, and that’s why many say they’re proud to be Americans. “Agree or disagree, you can still be true to your country,” says Les Welch, a small business owner from Harrisonburg. “The ability to have that freedom is the basis of patriotism.”

Not long ago, dissent wasn’t quite so popular. During WWII, Roberts says, it was considered unpatriotic not to back the country’s involvement in the war. “[The idea that] you can’t criticize your country’s decision died with Vietnam,” he says.

The times have changed for the better, says Mark Metzler Sawin, an associate professor of U.S. history at Eastern Mennonite University, who sees the country as an extended family.

“We, as citizens, are like the parents of our nation,” he explains. “A good parent doesn’t always approve of what the child does. … Our job is to critique the government and make sure it’s doing what we the people want it to do.”

Modern definitions agree on what patriotism is not: in Sawin’s words, “an unquestioning support of what your country does.”

Who is a patriot?
Sgt. Randy S. Dovel, who is back in Shenandoah after serving nine months in Iraq with the Army National Guard, says soldiers are often thought of as patriots because they illustrate the action behind patriotism.

He says his nine years of service have made him appreciate liberties many Americans take for granted, but that doesn’t make him more patriotic than anyone else. He’s just doing his duty, he says.

“When people think of patriots, they think of people who served in the military. But sometimes I wonder if people think of themselves as patriots,” he says. “People who have a flag on their porch, who go out and shake the hands of veterans, they’re doing what they view as right.”

Whether those flags fly for the soldiers or the war is a relatively new question, Roberts says. People agree that it’s patriotic to serve in the military or to respect those who do, but “there’s a real split over supporting the war versus supporting those who participate.”

In earlier wars, the two were more closely aligned, historians agree. “Now people support the troops but bash that we’re at war,” Shickel says. Like most Americans, though, she’s glad for the freedom to disagree — as long as it’s not at the expense of supporting the troops.

But the military isn’t the only form of service. “Obviously, people who are defending our country are patriots,” Welch says. “But patriotism has less to do with the military than people tend to think. A patriot is someone who votes, someone who is active in community as well as national events. People who are concerned with the environment are patriots.”

Sawin, who sees a patriot as an informed and involved citizen who “makes sure the country is the best it can be,” offers his next-door neighbor as an example. He describes the Mennonite man, a former city employee, who supports the war effort, cares for his family and stays involved in multiple civic organizations.

“I see patriotism much in the same way I see religion,” Sawin says. “If it’s just symbols and lip service, I see it as pretty shallow and meaningless.”

Alison Sandman sees patriotism as a blend of action and expression. “Half of me thinks patriotism is Fourth of July fireworks,” says the JMU history professor, “and the other thinks of being engaged in reform. People tend to use patriotism only to mean the flag-waving part of it.”

With a one-sided definition, she says, patriotism becomes a “dividing factor” where one example represents the whole.

But the two sides can and should coexist, she says. “In terms of people caring about the country and working to make it better, that’s the same everywhere.”

Symbols have their place in patriotism, Roberts agrees. “Flying your flag can be patriotic. People believe it’s symbolic.” Because it’s unique to America, the star-spangled flag represents the country. To many, refusing to fly it is like renouncing the country — which is why Barack Obama’s removal of his flag pin was upsetting.

“My attitude is that I’m less concerned about what you’re wearing on your lapel than what’s in your heart,” the presidential candidate told an Iowa crowd in October, according to the Associated Press. “You show your patriotism by how you treat your fellow Americans, especially those who serve.”

Patriotic pacifists
Sawin says many Mennonites, who separate themselves from matters of the state, have endured similar fire.

“Mennonites typically don’t fly flags. Some don’t say the pledge or stand during the anthem, though fewer and fewer are that strict,” Sawin says, explaining that they don’t disapprove of their country, they just direct their allegiance toward a higher power.

The denomination doesn’t hold an official stance on politics, Sawin says, but today’s Mennonites are becoming more involved than their ancestors.

Mennonite Central Committee, the church’s peace and relief organization, has an office in Washington, D.C., where it engages in political policies. Other Mennonites work with the U.S. Army War College to promote conflict resolution.

Still, confusion and even disdain surround the church’s political and patriotic involvement. One of the church’s most defining characteristics — and sometimes, Sawin says, one of the most conducive to controversy — is its focus on peace.

“Most Mennonites are pacifists,” Sawin explains. “Historically, that has caused them to be seen as less than patriotic.”

They respect soldiers as much as anyone, he says, but they choose missions over military service.

“If other young people are risking their lives for the country, it’s [Mennonite youth’s] duty to do work for the world,” Sawin says.

Mennonites typically don’t have a “God bless the U.S.A.” mindset, he says. “The rest of the world should be blessed as well. If we’re going to reap those benefits, we should make it available to everyone.”

Sawin, who’s preparing to spend a yearlong sabbatical in Croatia with a Fulbright grant from the U.S. Department of State, says being on the internationally immersed EMU campus makes it “impossible to pretend that America is the only nation.”

Using their right to disagree, Americans like Sawin and Welch voice their frustratration with some of the country’s moves. “Some decisions our country has made are inconvenient or embarrassing,” Welch says, summing up a discontent shared by many, “but it’s still my country.”

Despite the arguments — to serve or not to serve, to support the war or the soldiers, to fly a flag or refrain — Sawin says both sides spring from the same core.

“We have the same hopes and critiques of our government,” he says. “We want the same thing: a better world for ourselves, our families and our country.”