The Room Where It Happens: Hamilton and the 4th.
It's (almost) July 4th again. America is 250 years old this year, and I find myself in the same place I have been the last several years on this day: deeply, fiercely proud, and equally, concerned about the state of our country. Both things. Always both things. If you've been here a while, you know that about me. So grab your coffee, settle in, and let's talk Hamilton again. Because honestly? The musical keeps giving.
Run don’t walk when you get your shot to see Hamilton live!
Last year I wrote about being young, scrappy, and hungry, about governing being harder than winning, and about teaching people how to say goodbye. If you missed it, go read it… I'll wait and drink my coffee while it’s hot. But today I want to sit with some different lines, because Lin-Manuel Miranda packed enough wisdom into that show to fuel about forty-seven 4th of July blog posts, and I intend to get there eventually.
"I am not throwing away my shot."
I know, I know! This is maybe the most famous line in the whole show. But stay with me, because I don't think we talk about it the right way. We use it as a hype lyric, a motivational poster phrase. But in the context of the actual show, Hamilton is saying it in community. He's not alone when he sings it. He's surrounded by Laurens, Lafayette, Mulligan - people who are also not throwing away their shots, together.
America's birthday feels like a good time to ask: whose shot are we protecting, and whose are we getting in the way of? Because a rising tide lifting all boats sounds great until you realize some people are in the water without a boat at all. Not throwing away your shot means something different when systems are designed to give some people five shots to your one. I want to live in a country where "not throwing away your shot" is available to everyone, not just those who were born into the right zip code and the right tax bracket.
"I'd rather be divisive than indecisive."
Hamilton says this and honestly, same. There is a brand of "let's all just get along" that asks the people being harmed to be quieter so everyone else can be more comfortable. You all know that I am no stranger to advocacy. It is not a path I would have willingly gone down as a parent, but here we are and I will forever shout my children’s worth and fight for inclusion. I've sat in real, actual rooms where real advocacy got watered down in the name of not making waves. I've been the person at the table being told to dial it back. And I understand the strategy of it, I do…but there comes a point where indecision IS a decision, and silence IS a choice. Being unwilling to take a clear stand on human dignity isn't neutrality. It's a choice that has consequences for real people with real lives.
That doesn't mean I think everyone on the other side of the real or proverbial aisle is my enemy. I genuinely don't. I have people I love and respect who vote, think, and believe very differently than I do. And yet, I am not going to pretend there aren't clear moral lines when it comes to how we treat the most vulnerable among us. I'd rather be honest about that than perform a unity that isn't real yet.
Baby’s First 4th of July and Brother’s first time making it to fireworks!
"Look around, look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now."
Eliza sings this with such joy and it absolutely destroys me every time, because she has no idea what's coming. And (checks notes) neither do we, most of the time.
Here's the thing though. I don't want to let the weight of what's wrong steal my ability to be present for what's good. My kids are growing up. Our people are still in our life. We’re settling in and finding our way in this Georgia adventure. The coffee is still hot. And on the 4th of July, I can still stand in my backyard and watch fireworks with neighbors, and that is not nothing. Gratitude and grief can coexist. Hope and honesty can coexist. That's kind of my whole thing, right?
So yes, look around! At your people. At the beauty that still exists. At the communities that are showing up for each other with breathtaking resilience. And let that fuel you, not lull you.
"This is not a moment, it's the movement."
We are in a moment right now in America that will be studied in history classes. I believe that with my whole heart and soul. And moments, even difficult, disorienting, painful moments, can become movements if we decide they will. Movements are built by ordinary people who just kept going. Who called their representatives (oh, hey again, Ted Cruz). Who showed up to their school board meetings. Who told the truth about their experiences. Who refused to let the noise convince them that nothing they did mattered. Who said the quiet things out loud.
You matter. Your voice matters. Your vote matters. Your presence in your community matters. You will never convince me that change doesn’t start locally because I’ve seen it and lived it. We are not just in a moment; we are in a movement, and the direction it goes depends on all of us.
So here's to 250 years, America, and the great experiment of democracy. I pray that democracy continues for another 250 years. I love you. I'm not done with you. I'm not giving up on you. We have a lot of work to do for the generations coming behind us…
And I am absolutely, positively not throwing away my shot.
Because history has its’ eyes on us…Happy 4th of July.
Love you, mean it, friends.
Come back in two weeks as I wrap up the Summer Unfiltered Series!