The United States and what July 4th Means to Others in the World.

On this 4th of July, I'm reminded of a few conversations I had with students in the former Soviet Union. During the 1990s and early 2000s, I was an adjunct college professor in the city of Zaporozhye, Ukraine. Zaporozhye is one of the cities that refugees are currently fleeing to to escape the conflict with Russia. At that time, it was a city of one million. I understand it has grown to 2 million with those fleeing the conflict. 

During those teaching days, I flew into Ukraine on Saturday, taught a semester in two weeks beginning Monday and flew back about 17 days later. My students were in my classroom from 8:30 - 3:30 each day. During those intense days, my students went through a 45 hour semester, took two exams, and did class activities and presentations.

Because of the intimate and intense setting, I had the privilege of getting to know my interpreters and some of the students pretty well. Having grown up during the Cold War, I had preconceived ideas of what the Soviet Union was like. I learned that those in the Soviet block also had their own preconceived ideas of Americans.

The one thing I learned about those students was they had a veracious desire for freedom and all of the benefits of it. The old guard wanted to return to communism where bread, a guaranteed income and a place to live were part of the government system. The old guard were mostly made up of my student's older relatives. The students had grown up under communism. They were just a few short years outside of the fall of the Berlin wall, but in those few short years, they had tasted freedom, and they liked it.

That freedom meant they could start a company. They could choose their own career path. They could have a destiny beyond anything they had ever imagined. They could speak freely and follow their dreams. It was fragile, but it was theirs. While giving a speech in a local church, a church elder leaned over and said to me, "We are in the beginnings of freedom. Please pray for us. We estimate it will only last ten years, but if it is successful, it may be longer." 

That fatalist mindset seemed so foreign to me. Their hope was for a lasting freedom, but the history of the country had proved that freedom was incredibly fragile in Ukraine. As I sat there and absorbed that comment, he leaned over once again and said, "We are praying for your country. We see you following the same path that brought communism to our country." That was stunning. That was 1998. I'd love to talk to him again today.

Another thing I learned from my students was that they did not have animus for Americans. They actually didn't think about us much, much like most Americans didn't think about the former Soviets much during those years. They didn't fear us, and they hoped that we didn't fear them. They quickly acknowledged that the past tension between our two societies was born in government and not in the marketplace. Government leaders stoked the fires of suspicion, not the people.

They wanted to live their lives, raise their families and be happy. What an American-style system meant to them was a chance to do that. They saw our freedoms as a way to have a happy, healthy and fulfilling life. I hope you feel the same way on this most celebrated of days in the United States of America. We have always been a shining light on a hill, and as long as we don't lose sight of our unique place in history, we always will be.