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The House I Live In
(Playing ~ "The House I Live In")

The Lyrics

What is America to me?
A name, a map, or a flag I see?
A certain word, "democracy"?
What is America to me?

The house I live in, a plot of earth, a street
The grocer and the butcher, and the people that I meet
The children in the playground, the faces that I see
All races and religions, that's America to me.

The place I work in, the worker by my side
The little town or city where my people lived and died
The "howdy" and the handshake, the air of feeling free
And the right to speak my mind out, that's America to me.

The things I see about me, the big things and the small
The little corner newsstand and the house a mile tall
The wedding in the churchyard, the laughter and the tears
The dream that's been a-growin' for a hundred and fifty years.

The town I live in, the street, the house, the room
The pavement of the city, or a garden all in bloom
The church, the school, the clubhouse, the millions lights I see
But especially the people
That's America to me.

~ words by Lewis Allan ... music by Earl Robinson
Song made famous by Frank Sinatra

America draws its strength from home-grown values

~ by George Cantor, The Detroit News

One of my earliest memories is going to the movies right after World War II and seeing the short
in which Frank Sinatra sings "The House I Live In." It seemed to me they ran it every time, although that
was probably just the impression of a child. I hadn't heard it for years, not until recent days.

"The house I live in. A plot of earth, a street."

It is a touching song, defining America in its most elemental terms. Your neighbors, the people you work with, the space that allows your dreams to grow, the freedom to be who you are. The things we don't really feel
the need to talk about much because they are such a part of us. Not until someone tries to blow them up.

My neighborhood has been transformed since September. There are flags up and down the street.
Not through coercion or pressure, but because it is time to show we love what it stands for, even if we don't often say so out loud. This is a pretty diverse neighborhood, one that would astonish those who refer to my community as a "white bread suburb." Christian and Jew, black and white, Chaldean and Asian. The flag flies
at almost every house. There has been a lot of shallow patriotism in recent weeks, hucksters who try
to tell us that the best thing we can do for America is run out and buy one of their products.
But most of it has been sincere, a wish to express feelings that run too deep for words.

There are those, however, to whom any patriotic display is not only offensive but downright contemptible. Their favorite description of it is "mindless," although it is actually just the opposite. But their world view
is based on selective compassion, identifying the "victims" of American misdeeds and finding reasons why
their actions are reasonable. The concept that America could be a victim is not only alien to them, it is incomprehensible. To them, it is the terrorists who are the victims here because they were forced
to respond to imperialist oppression.

But it is nice that the school board of Madison, Wisc., has decided to lift its ban on reciting
the Pledge of Allegiance. One bright young man who supported leaving the ban in place called the pledge
a "divisive force." You have to wonder what kind of garbage has been pumped into him by his parents
and teachers to have led him to this asinine position. I know it would be a shock to him to understand
that the entire philosophical basis of tax-supported public schools is to produce educated citizens
who share certain democratic values. The values contained in the Pledge, for example. If this young man's family is uncomfortable with such a concept, I'm sure they can find a private school in Madison
that will instruct him that America is to blame for everything wrong in the world.

Our current enemies don't subscribe to the Pledge of Allegiance. They also believe that the diversity
and tolerance all around the house I live in is our great weakness. They cannot begin to grasp
that it is our hidden strength.

~~~

Used with the express consent of the writer, George Cantor

George Cantor is a Detroit News editorial writer whose column is published on Saturday. He can be reached at (313) 222-2668 or gcantor@detnews.com.
Write letters to The Detroit News, 615 W. Lafayette, Detroit, MI 48226,
or fax to (313) 222-6417 or send messages to letters@detnews.com.

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