Every year around Independence Day, I find myself musing on the July 4th celebrations of my childhood, mentally transporting myself back to those sweet summer days when my biggest worry was who would get the biggest slice of watermelon. Those memories are so deeply ingrained in me that it takes only a moment to conjure in my mind the sights, sounds, tastes, and smells of those celebrations. For my family, July 4th was spent at the Jersey shore at my grandparents’ house where the whole family—parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins—would gather for the holiday. I remember the smell of burgers cooking on the grill, the taste of my grandmother’s potato salad, and the red-white-and-blue-themed decorations and desserts. I especially remember the excitement when all of us headed to the beach after dark to see the fireworks, the feeling of lying on the cool sand, listening for the sound of the waves in between the booms of the fireworks bursting over my head.

When I got a little older, I learned more about the historical significance of July 4th as the proud and patriotic day when the thirteen colonies declared their freedom and independence from Britain. Later on, I learned about shameful chapters in our nation’s history - slavery, racism, imperialism—and began to consider our family celebrations on July 4th with a jaundiced eye. Later still, I began to understand how deeply the sins of our national past cut through the fabric of our society.I learned that there was another celebration of freedom called Juneteenth, which had been observed by African American families for generations, and which I knew nothing about. I became aware that not everyone in this country had the same experience of freedom that I did.

Nostalgia has its place. It connects us to our families and stirs up happy associations from our past. I still treasure those memories of my childhood. But nostalgia is not history, and my story is not everyone’s story. Learning about the troubles and trials of our national story has not caused me to love this country any less. On the contrary, our imperfect history motivates me to participate even more in our great American project “to form a more perfect Union, to establish Justice, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity.” May it be so for all people.