Five tender, sweet little words will resound forever in my fondest memories:

Mommy, are we there yet?

Over the years, my children have seen all corners of America the Beautiful.  We did The Disney Thing only once during 12 years of awesome family vacations, with all the rest offering something new (that is, unique to the region and not available in Chicago), at least one day of outdoor adventure (at my insistence), and above all, exposure to something educational, usually with a historical theme.

It is through these wonderful cross-country excursions in our old jalopy that I realized children are inclined to give no more than diddley-squat to behold the rugged beauty of the Badlands, but instead can glean a true appreciation for our sociopolitical and cultural landscape.

Our last full-house vacation was South Dakota in 2003.  I found Mount Rushmore breathtaking for the sheer glory of the rock formations; my husband, the engineer, pondered “How’d they do that?”  The children, however, argued incessantly - about how Teddy and Franklin were related and what it was about Teddy’s presidency that gave him a rank up there with Abraham, Thomas, and George.

Their excitement when visiting the Presidential Wax Museum at the foot of Mount Rushmore prompted us to take a second tour before departing for the Laura Ingalls Wilder Pageant on our way home.

Likewise, every trip south of Illinois, from the National Civil Rights Museum at the former Lorraine Motel in Memphis to the French Quarter in New Orleans, necessitated a diversion from I57 through depressed Cairo, Illinois - after which their innocent reflections on the civil war, poverty, and racism would continue until we finally rolled into our driveway during the wee hours.

It was no wonder to me that my son came home Tuesday determined to have his homework done by 7, that my daughter spent the day volunteering at the polls before attending the Obamapalooza victory celebration in Grant Park.

I am so happy that this week my now adult children, with my younger voting for the first time, helped propel a tremendous step forward for humankind.  President elect Barack Obama will someday take a proud and extremely significant place in the Presidential Wax Museum, and our children lived, and perhaps even helped shape, this powerful event.

But Mom, are we there yet?

No, honey.  Not yet.

On the same  day an African-American was elected to the highest office in the nation, millions of other human beings, in the most progressive of our states, were denied access to the most fundamental and universally recognized institution - that of marriage.  The preliminary success of California’s Proposition 8 should warn us to keep our jubilation guarded.  “Human rights” is a notion that remains just out of the grasp of our collective consciousness.  We seem to have taken two steps forward, one step back.

Aw, come on Mom!  How much longer?

I don’t know, sweetheart, but we are getting there.  I promise.  Just look at all the Wall Drug signs - they’re popping up everywhere!  We must be getting close.  Let’s start counting them!

I live in what I consider to be the greatest country on earth. Having traveled a bit internationally and having the good fortune to become educated past high school, I’ve always known that growing up middle class in the middle of the 20^th-century in America made me one of history’s most highly favored citizens.

Throughout the ages, few have lived anywhere near as well as even lower-middle-class Americans do. Few have had so many freedoms from the time their country was founded, although some had to fight longer and harder than others for their share, even here.

I say this to let you know that I know I’m lucky. I’m proud to be an American. I was thrilled to discover colonial roots that bind me genealogically to the founding of our nation. And lately I’m worried about how partisanship is tearing apart our sense of country, of being Americans together, of being the United States—and doing so in the name of patriotism.

Divide and Bludgeon

As I prepared for a small-group meeting last night, I was engrossed in a book about how my faith should be leading me and my fellow believers in actively addressing the biggest challenges in the world. (Doesn’t matter which faith. Most of them—at heart, in their purest essence–promote this same mission and share this idealism.)

In the book, the author wrote about the Rwandan genocide, about the mass killings of hundreds of thousands of members of the Tutsi tribe by members of the Hutu majority. Inconceivable horror, so far away. And then I was struck by a parallel.

Tribalism is happening here, in America, in our politics. No, we’ve not moved anywhere near the point of physical genocide. But we have gone beyond partisanship to the point of forming a mass cultural divide based on whether we’re Democrat or Republican, “progressive” or “conservative,” “spiritual” or “religious” or gunning for a theocracy. To me the effects resemble the aftermath of a 9-11-style attack on decency, trust, and communal citizenship.

While visiting Gettsyburg this summer with my family, I was shocked when the most pop culture-oriented of the group and the least interested in history became utterly engrossed in the brilliantly-presented films outlining the bloody days of the key battles. He said, “It just became clear how tenuous it was; how if one general had gotten the orders to attack a little earlier, we could be living in two countries right now.”

It’s beginning to feel that way this election season.

Red States, Blue States, Purple-faced Partisanship

Political party membership is becoming a key element of identity for a lot of Americans. But is our sense of being American becoming secondary to our identities as Republicans or Democrats?

If asked, wouldn’t anyone say that he or she is simply voting for the people he or she believes will help our country the most? Nearly all of us are sincere, even passionate, in our convictions, so why has it become so difficult to see the authenticity in those who disagree with us? It is, after all, quite possible to be sincerely misguided.

Personally, I place the blame squarely on the vicious and underhanded “Wag the Dog”-style machinations of our national political campaigns. No matter which side of the aisle we call home, any one of us who is paying enough attention must now be aware—if only at a visceral level—that we are being manipulated. In a close election, swing voters ultimately have to pick a side, after all, and smear campaigns work. Low-information voters are often swayed by the disinformation arriving in abbreviated form as a few pointed headlines aimed squarely at the attention-deficit crowd.

In a time and a culture where civility and citizenship are ghosts of their former selves, we owe it to ourselves as a nation to step back and get some perspective. To do some research. To ignore the spin and dig for the truth.

Our tribe is America.

The other party is not the enemy. The enemy is the atmosphere of half-truths, manipulation, and outright lies that’s being allowed to permeate the workings of both major parties, drift through the blogosphere and digital setboxes and satellite airwaves to tell us who to trust.

We should resist the forces that preach that politics is black and white, good against evil. And we shouldn’t settle for a political climate that makes an election a zero-sum game. Americans are too valuable a resource. Too much is at stake.