Summary
In Amsterdam, people eyed me with pity, suspicion or loathing as soon as I opened my mouth and spoke American English, my only fluent language. At train stations, people sneered, "Bush, Bush," as I walked by, intending to shame me. It's a harrowing time to be a U.S. citizen afoot in the world, but there I was, headed for a Dutch retreat center to help facilitate a program based in nature.
The stunning fact that Americans have preserved habitat at all is evidence of an emerging ecological vision. If the United States has a gift for the world, it's not our gift for the absurd consumer confidence index, not pre-emptive invasion, not even a limping democracy. It is a dream of collaboration with Earth, rooted in tundra, tangled forests, hissing geysers, stone deserts. It is a vision as radically wild now as it was in 1862, when Thoreau famously wrote: "In wildness is the preservation of the world."Outside the United States, "American" has become synonymous with "Bush." But even as Europeans scorned my citizenship, I could not disown my native land. On the North American continent, enough wildness remains to guide our fledgling discovery of how human purpose can be coherent with natural systems -- a vision no less necessary for our common future than a dream of freedom.See the full content of this document
Extract
American -- And Proud of It
Until I traveled to Holland recently, I didn't know how irreversibly American I am. Perhaps I'm not precisely a patriot -- the word comes from the Latin for father -- but I'm certainly one deeply identified with my native land.
In Amsterdam, people ...See the full content of this document
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