A Letter to America on Turning 250

Dear America,

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I love you.  And I want you to be well.

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I mean that, even though I know how complicated that statement may be.

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Unsurprisingly, folks are processing America’s 250th anniversary differently. For so many of us, this milestone is a painful recognition of the centuries of harm endured by our ancestors, families, and communities at the hands of people in power. These harms continue today.

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I've come to believe that this country is experiencing what I’ll refer to as spiritual famine – a starvation of the spirit that makes it possible to look at another human being and fail to see them as human at all. This famine is what allowed the genocide and displacement of Native peoples and the enslavement and continued oppression of Black, Indigenous, and other communities — harms that have continued for far more than 250 years. Persistent cruelty at scale like this requires people to be severed from their hearts, from each other, and from the land.

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To put a bow on 250 years of this American experiment without naming these truths would be its own kind of harm.  When we love, we tell the truth. We don't celebrate a government that has too often failed its people, and we're not here to celebrate a sanitized history.

Today, we celebrate the American people because, despite everything working against most of us, we still choose, again and again, to care for one another. 
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That care for each other is grounded in the idea of what our nation actually can be.  And as our government is trying to pull us further away from the idea of “us”, there is a growing appetite for connection, love and belonging because of the spirit of care that still radiates across our communities. Yes, we are witnessing a spiritual famine, but the paradox is that Spirit is still abundant.  When I say Spirit, I’m not talking about religion or religious figures; I mean the animating force that connects us all and enables us to see and celebrate each other’s humanity.  This Spirit is all around, alive in generosity, reciprocity, and collective care, if we know where to look.   

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You’ve felt it.  Maybe at a concert, maybe holding a dying person’s hand, maybe standing at the ocean’s edge. Spirit is the specific quality of presence that moves you toward connection rather than away from it. Spirit can be what you feel watching a heart-heavy film, standing in nature, doing justice work, being in love, or experiencing grief. Spirit is how you may feel holding your newborn baby, landing your first big job, or watching your hometown hero take your team to the playoffs!  Because Spirit is everywhere, moving through everything, calling us always toward greater truth, fuller belonging, deeper connection. It doesn’t require belief. It requires attention.  

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As a child, my heart would swell when singing patriotic songs about this country.  It felt spiritual.  I remember looking around my class as we sang America, the Beautiful, and I would think to myself, “Wow, look how different we all are, how wonderful.” I really thought that anything was possible for any of us at that time because of the connection and care we had across our community. 
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We are living in a time when I have questioned those feelings from my youth.  It’s easy to start thinking that no one cares about anyone else anymore and that it's “every person for themselves”.  My organization, Decolonizing Wealth Project, recently conducted research that challenges these narratives.  Our national research found that 82% of Americans say they care for others without expecting anything in return. No keeping score. No strings attached.  What a relief!  You can see and feel it right now in the World Cup. Visitors from around the world are remarking on how generous and welcoming we are. You can see and feel Spirit in the neighbor who mows your lawn without being asked, the person who invites a stranger to dinner, the smile from someone you'll never see again, or the mutual aid fund that stands up to support a person in need. 

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Some say everyone wants a village, but no one wants to be the villager. I don't believe that. I see us desperately trying to be villagers, showing up for each other, even when our government acts in direct opposition to who we are and withholds the systems and tools we need to build the village. Racist policies, a painfully inequitable distribution of wealth, and the weight of showing up tired from the financial and emotional stress of an economic system that seeks to extract as much as possible are all attempts at perpetuating this costly spiritual famine.

Thankfully, we, the people, are not our government. We've made incredible strides despite policies and practices designed to separate us and dampen our collective power. The attacks on democracy and on each other that we're witnessing are a backlash to that progress and a sign of how much ground we've actually gained.  We are feeding our spirits and connecting, loving, and celebrating one another.

That's the America we're choosing to celebrate today: the one that stands up to state violence against its neighbors, the one that pulls over on the highway to help someone catch a loose dog, the one that brings cold water to an elder outside in the heat. All around us, we see quiet acts of love for each other. That’s the America I know.

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And, because I know us, I know love will prevail.
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At DWP, we believe money can be medicine — a vehicle for the Spirit we already carry. By redirecting capital, that Spirit spreads, sheds light on the truth, and ultimately heals us all. This is our offering to usher in the next 250 years: transforming wealth into collective wellbeing.
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America, we see your resilience and dignity. We celebrate your spirit. And we will keep fighting alongside you for an economy that works for everyone, a climate protected by those who know it best, and mental health support for our future leaders who we hope will inherit an America whose economic and social policies are as caring as its people. 

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Our suffering has been shared. So too will our thriving. 

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To truth, healing and repair,
Edgar

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P.S. If you’re looking for community, connection, and a way to put your money to work as medicine, join Liberated Capital, DWP's giving community with hundreds of members across the U.S. and beyond. Together, we’ve moved millions to Black, Indigenous, and under-resourced communities since 2019. Members get exclusive resources, events, and wellness offerings and become part of healing our relationship with money and each other.

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