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How Does It Feel to Be American?

Victoria Sanchez Student Contributor, Texas State University
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at TX State chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

Journalist Isabella Murray asked an Olympic skier, “How does it feel to represent your country, given the country’s current political climate?” Many athletes avoid the question altogether. Others answer honestly, admitting that it feels confusing—that they don’t know how they are supposed to feel. Others with pride shining, as this has always been their dream. But their uncertainty was met not with understanding, but with scrutiny from the president, who publicly shamed them for being “ungrateful” and a “loser.”

It is difficult to take a clear stance here. Of course, it would be comforting for the United States to be seen in a better light. But instead, the country is repeatedly highlighted in global media for political volatility and deepening party divisions. Immigrant enforcement practices, in particular, have raised widespread concern among civil rights organizations (and any good human), with allegations of due process violations, family separation, and a system so complex that navigating it becomes nearly impossible.

At the same time, the government protects child predators named in the infamous Epstein files. The public has been exposed to thousands of pages detailing some of the most horrific acts imaginable, yet no meaningful action follows. The release of the files was framed as transparency, as if disclosure alone were justice. But the public did not ask for information without consequence; they asked for accountability, for prosecution, for action.

This country brands itself as the global model of political freedom: the right to criticize our government without fear, to pursue the “American Dream,” to practice religion freely, to vote, to live safely within a democracy that claims to put its people first. And yet, that same government is accused of protecting the powerful, leveraging political systems for personal or partisan gain, and creating a divide amongst ideologies, where respect is no longer found.

To be American, then, is not simply to belong to a nation—it is to live inside its contradictions.

Olympic backlash

This tension is reflected in the words of Olympic athletes themselves. Skier Hunter Hess told ABC News that he had mixed emotions, explaining that while he does not agree with everything happening in the United States, he competes for the people who helped him reach the Games. “Just because I’m wearing the flag doesn’t mean I represent everything that’s going on in the U.S.,” he said.

These athletes are not representing our official government. They are private citizens. They are not required to perform gratitude on command or treat the states as something beyond critique. The American public does not live in a society where citizens owe unconditional loyalty to leadership. It is a democracy founded on the right to question power and to speak openly, without our president dragging them on social media.

Their honesty harms no one. In fact, it reflects what many Americans already feel: that loving a country and questioning it are not opposites. It is confusing to be American in times like these.

That pride and shame can coexist. 

Superbowl 60

I have never seen an artist expose such a deep divide with a single performance. From the moment Bad Bunny was selected to perform for the halftime show, the criticism began: that his music is in Spanish, that viewers wouldn’t “understand” it, that watching a performance in another language was somehow un-American. Though Benito himself is very much American. 

His outspoken stance on immigration only intensified the backlash. Conservatives framed his selection as “political”. Ignoring the fact that he had just won a Grammy for Album of the Year. From the moment his name became public, the performance was politicized. It became less about music and more about identity.

Boycott calls quickly followed. Turning Point USA, one of the most prominent conservative organizations, announced it would host an alternative event meant to showcase “real American values and culture”. They called it the All-American halftime show.

But which is more American? Football paired with a performance that reflects the diversity of the United States- or a counter show rooted in exclusion, revealing just how polarized this country has become?

The halftime show became the prime example of how fragile American identity now feels. The inability to celebrate different languages, music and culture ignores a simple truth. This county was not only founded by immigrants, but it also continues to run because of them.

Benito’s message at the end of the show is what stays with me the most: we are all Americans. Together, we are what makes this country a country. His performance aimed for unity during a moment of deep division, while the so-called All-American halftime show only built higher walls between ideologies. Arguably, the most un-American thing Turning Point could have done.

Being An American Within the Contradiction

It has taken me seven articles to gain the confidence to even begin writing about politics—out of sheer fear of who will read it and what they will say. Fear that criticizing the government and the institutions to which I owe so much will somehow be seen as betrayal. That someone will read this and shame me for it. Writing should not feel this way.

Private citizens should not be shamed for expressing conflict about a country that routinely contradicts its own ideals.  To be American is to try to live with these contradictions daily. Often feeling powerless as leadership grows increasingly out of control.

So, I finally ask myself: How does it feel to be American?

I can only answer with what I know: what it means to be American and what continuously draws our immigrant neighbors to this country. It is to invoke change when the majority leadership no longer represents our country’s shared and marginalized values. Complicity did not bring settlers here in the 1700s. It is not what secured women the right to vote, nor what allowed LGBTQ+ Americans the right to marriage. Progress in this country has never come from silence or comfort. It has come from resistance from the powers that seek to silence the public. 

Complicity goes against the very foundation of America.

Victoria Sanchez is a second semester writer for Her Campus at Texas State University chapter. She is passionate about personal essays, and culture that focus on pop culture and on going trends in media.

Beyond Her Campus, Victoria is majoring in Natural Resources & Environmental Studies with a minor in Biology. She has interned at Southwest Conservation Corps and Rocky Mountain Conservation Corps working in remote wilderness areas with the USFS and NPS.

Outside of school and work, Victoria enjoys all things that have to do with the outdoors and reading a new fantasy series.