Doubt and American Pride

Doubt in my work here and overbearing American pride are, to my dismay, occasionally alive within me. Often times these thoughts fill me with anger, confusion, and a cynical mindset. It is incredibly difficult for me to ascertain what of my doubt for compassion and what of my immense American pride is legitimate or valid, and what of it is the result of that which I have absorbed from a potentially twisted society in my nineteen years.

When I interact with guests, get to know them, spend hours working with them, receive rare rudeness, disrespect, or lack of appreciation from them, become exhausted on their behalf; a painful mindset of skepticism and cynicism creeps into my energy. Sometimes thoughts begin to circulate in my mind such as, “She doesn’t need this shampoo,” “Why doesn’t he have the respect to say thank you when I open the door?” “Why has it become expected that I will just hand out food?” “Why won’t he do his chore correctly, when that is all we ask of him?” Or even things as bad as, “Why did he come all the way from Honduras just to sit in the sala all day?”

To ground myself and understand how ludicrous these thoughts are, I project them on myself…compare it all to me. Do I really need the shampoo that I use? Do I say thank you every time that I walk into my home? Do I say thank you every time I take food out of the fridge? Do I always do chores around the house fully even though that is the only thing my mom asks of me? Is it OK when I waste days sitting around, even though I have the privilege to take advantage of so many options? The answer to all of these questions is no.

Why then I wonder, is my mind able to resent these qualities in the guests, but accept them in myself? Is it because I somehow feel like I have earned the right to these qualities? Or that because the shampoo I take, the door I open, the food I eat, or the time I spend is more ‘mine’ because my family ‘earned’ it? Is it because I think I have earned what I use?

Above, some guests pose with proudly decorated
zombies who roamed the paths during a 'Music
Under the Stars' event at Chamizal National Park.

To be frank, I have hardly earned the right to anything…I was just born extremely lucky as a citizen of the US and to a loving family that can provide for me.

It seems that the essence of the dynamic that I find myself uncomfortable with is the very dynamic which I strive to build; a power dynamic in which I am not treated like a superior. Why then, am I resentful of this balanced power dynamic once it exists? Why do I take pleasure to being called ‘Mr. Dan,’ while I know the distortion it creates? Who do I think I am to say that anybody doesn’t deserve what we provide, the very basic services? Who am I to cling to power and separation, while at the same time I try offer solidarity. How do I let this ambiguity exist within me?

I write this all because I want it to be known that in me, these thoughts do exist. I too experience moments of doubt and distrust. I too project blame on the immigrants and on the economically marginalized Americans. I do experience these thoughts. They exist in extreme ambiguity, in contradiction with my thoughts and energy of solidarity and compassion. But the thoughts that prevail, and that I know in my gut are right, are the ones that are compassionate, trusting, and rooted in solidarity. The rest, are that of a palimpsest from a society and a childhood filled with privilege, ignorance, and an unhealthy pride and unyielding sense of deserving. I know that the doubt and distrust—manifestations of fear and of privilege—are on the wrong side of truth, and with effort, should be erased from my life and cultural lens’.

This is all so confusing to me, I can only imagine what you are going through trying to sort through my splattered thoughts on this page.

To contradict myself more, I feel an opposite argument…Although disillusioned at times by our government, I constantly find that I am incredibly patriotic, incredibly proud, and incredibly hopeful. Sometimes I wonder how I can remain this way while witnessing so much pain and suffering that the US has caused, but in the end, patriotism, pride, and hope is very much a part of me.

At the bottom of it all exists patriotism, pride, with equal frustration, pain, and compassion. If understood correctly, I think that all people can maintain each of these feelings in a positive way. I finally have learned to cherish this ambiguity and allow my pride, patriotism, and privilege, to interact happily with my compassion, concern, and offerings of solidarity. After all, nothing here is mutually exclusive, as long as I can figure out how to use all of these deeply rooted views and emotions together.