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I declared my own independence beneath the East Balcony of the Old State House in Boston, Massachusetts.

It was from that beautiful balcony that the people of Boston first heard their Declaration of Independence from Britain just a few days after it was signed in 1776, and I stumbled over it while on a tour of the city’s educational “Freedom Trail” 230 years later.

I was a fresh new college student 2,000 miles away from my Colorado home. Never had I embarked on such an extraordinary journey, and never had I gazed at such a monumental symbol of my impending freedom.

Growing up is a tough thing to do. As a young woman entering her twenties, I am currently on the edge of something large, a defining era in my life. I have entered the age of “discovering myself,” and I believe it is fair to say that this requires a fair amount of reflection. Who am I, where do I come from, who do I want to be?

Unfortunately, I find it difficult in this day and age to find pride in being young. I am always looking for an excuse to make myself out to be older than I actually am. Maybe this stems from the thought that with age comes knowledge, experience and wisdom. I keep thinking that the greatest jobs will come when I graduate from college, that the best opportunities in life will come as I age. This is the logic that most of my peers and myself hold, and it is a burden that we need to be rid of. No one should ever think that they couldn’t accomplish their goals, reach their destination, and achieve success because they are young.

And our Founding Fathers can testify to this statement.

The Founding Fathers of these United States of America were somewhat young when they took on the tricky task of declaring their independence from the world’s most powerful empire. When the Declaration of Independence was signed, John Adams was all of 40 years old, and Thomas Jefferson was 33. Benjamin Rush was only 30 when he put his pen (or quill, rather) to the page. None of these men and the countless number of other patriots had ever started a revolution before. They were not trained militiamen or practiced politicians. Quite simply, they were individuals with a cause, a goal, and a destination. They did not let their lack of experience or age bind them from seeking their rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

This is what I will be thinking of as I watch the fireworks crack with color against the dark night sky, and spoon heaps of relish onto my chicken bratwurst at the family barbecue this July 4th.

My thoughts will be resting on the beautiful idea that I am a young, proud-to-be-an-American woman with the ability to achieve glorious things in this world. It is with this statement that I know I am on my way to answering the question: who do you want to be?

Who I want to be is an individual who lives her life testifying to the self-evident truths that all men, young or old, are created equal. That is what being an American means to me.


Happy Independence Day, sweet land of liberty.