When I look at the American flag hanging in my classroom, I don’t just see red, white and blue. I see a messy, complicated and beautiful work in progress.
As we approach the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, it’s easy to look at those old parchment papers and think that being an American is about where you were born or what your last name is. But if history has taught us anything, it’s that the definition of an American isn’t a static photograph; it’s a living, breathing conversation.
To me, being an American isn’t defined by a checklist of traits or a specific heritage. Instead, an American is someone who possesses the audacity to believe that the future can be better than the past. It is the refusal to accept the world as it is, and the relentless drive to push it toward what it could be.
For the last 250 years, we have been arguing about who gets to sit at the table. At the time of the nation’s founding, the definition was narrow and exclusionary. But over time, through protests, legislation and the slow, grinding gears of social change, we have expanded that circle. We have learned that the strength of this country doesn’t come from everyone being the same, it comes from the friction of different ideas rubbing against each other. We are a nation built not on the uniformity of our blood, but on the unity of our ideals.
In my own life, in Chattanooga, I see this every day.
I see it in the immigrant families who open small businesses downtown, bringing flavors and perspectives that make our city richer. I see it in the students at my school who come from completely different backgrounds but stand together to advocate for better mental health resources or environmental protection.
To my friends and me, the label of “American” is important because it is a promise. It is a promise that we are part of a collective project, a grand experiment that requires our participation to survive.
Some people might say that the label is just a passport or a legal status. But I think it’s more of a responsibility. Being an American means you have a stake in the success of your neighbor. It means that when one of us is held back by injustice, the whole country is diminished.
We are the only nation in the world that is defined by a set of principles rather than a shared ethnicity. That makes us fragile, yes, but it also makes us incredibly resilient.
We are currently living in a time where it feels like we are more divided than ever. We argue about politics, history and the direction of our country. But maybe that’s the most “American” thing we can do. Democracy is not a spectator sport; it is a loud, messy and necessary argument that we are all invited to join. If we ever stop arguing, it might mean we’ve stopped caring.
As we mark this 250th anniversary, I don’t want us to just celebrate the past. I want us to look at the gaps in our current society, the places where we still fall short of the promises made in 1776, and decide to do better. Being an American is not about inheriting a perfect country, it is about accepting the duty to perfect it.
To me, the label is a badge of hope. It tells the world that no matter where you come from, you can contribute to the story of this nation. We are a blend, and while some of the pieces are jagged and don’t always fit perfectly, the picture we are creating together is unlike anything else on Earth.
I am proud to be an American, not because we have reached the finish line, but because we are still running the race.
Caitlyn Howell, 17, is a rising senior at Chattanooga School for the Arts and Sciences. She lives in Lakesite.
What is an American?
Dozens of Chattanooga area high school students answered that question in essays marking the America 250 anniversary, participating in a contest held by the Times Free Press and the Chattanooga Area Historical Association.
This essay by Caitlyn Howell of Lakesite was chosen as the first-place winner. Read the essays that placed second and third and look for excerpts from more of our honorable-mention essays in the next few weeks.