Yankee Doodle

July 4, 2025…I watched the old movie “Yankee Doodle Dandy” late this afternoon, in part because I was missing my mother, in part because I was missing that feeling of patriotism that was built into the very fabric of my upbringing. We watched that movie every year, while we watched my mother sing, dance, and cry through it.

Today I watched it, did a little singing along, definitely cried at the parts I remember my mother loving the most: when James Cagney (George M. Cohan) sings It’s a Grand Old Flag, when he gets a crowd of World War I soldiers inspired with Over There, when he tap dances down the long, long staircase after leaving President Roosevelt’s office. And when he marches along the streets of Washington, D.C. with a parade of World War II soldiers to the beat of the patriotic music he created during his lifetime.

Those were the days.

In the early evening, my husband and I took a walk to the beach to see the sunset. There were still people down there, enjoying the last of this spectacular summer weather day. One group of revelers had put up a joyful looking blue-and-white-striped tent. In the spirit of setting themselves up for the 4^th of July, they had an American flag dug into the sand on one side, and a Trump flag dug into the sand on the other side.

I was raised to respect differences of opinion, politics, philosophy along with race, color and creed. You like Trump? Knock yourself out. You want to put up a flag on the 4^th of July that honors a president who has profoundly divided our country with a culture of grievance and control rather than consensus or law? That’s your prerogative. Because, hey, you’re free to do that.

While you’re planting that flag in the sand, don’t plant your head down there, too. You get to put up a tent on a beautiful beach, to celebrate our independence from a mad king in a repressive, top-heavy society that favored the rich. On the very day that a bill passed to have more than 12 million people lose their health care coverage.

But maybe you didn’t understand what was at stake in this bill beyond not being taxed on your tips and overtime. This isn’t just about a bad plan to cut taxes. It’s about a shift in the very philosophy of how the United States treats poverty and public health. It’s about slashing safety nets for the poorest among us by demanding conditional access based on work, reporting and compliance. It’s about removing federal support and granting state-level discretion with fewer resources. It’s about denying health as a human right and making it a reward for productivity.

This ridiculously-named bill signifies the largest rollback of public health access in modern U.S. history. It’s sold to us as some kind of tax relief and anti-fraud measure but what it actually does is shift healthcare from being a right to being a privilege. We have a new social contract here – and it’s one where millions of the most vulnerable Americans are the ones being left behind.

The marching orders of this bill are based on the notion that we’re somehow being scammed out of millions of tax dollars by people gaming the Medicaid system. It’s a fact that most people on Medicaid are working adults, caregivers, the disabled – not to mention the millions of children who will be affected. And those people live in our neighborhood, not somewhere “over there.”

So prepare, say a prayer,

Send the word, send the word to beware.

We’ll be over, we’re coming over,

And we won’t come back till it’s over

Over there.

The lyrics to George M. Cohan’s wonderful song take an ominous turn, as our country’s ship is being steered toward a future defined not by collective care, but by conditional worth. We are sailing into waters of deep inequality and a stunning lack of dignity for our countrymen and women. Some would even say we’re fully in that sea, and that course corrections seem impossible.

I want to sing America today. Like my mother used to.

I believe that the sea is wide and this ship has room to turn. I’m counting on it. I am that Yankee Doodle Girl.