I believe in American exceptionalism. Here’s why.

I graduated from high school in 2000. Like many young people, I thought about serving my country, but “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell," the policy that banned openly queer people from serving, closed that door. Because of who I was, military service remained off-limits.

Then came the terrorist attacks of September 11. A total of 2,977 innocent people lost their lives that day, and countless more families had their futures torn apart. As Americans, we will always carry that grief. Before long, that grief turned into something else. Like so many others, I felt it not only as sorrow but as a call to serve, to put on the uniform and defend the ideals we are taught to believe in. Yet the answer remained no. My country told me I was unworthy.

For years, that door stayed closed. More than a decade later, America finally shifted. In 2011, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” was repealed, and the door to serve was opened. I enlisted. After years of being told no, the chance to finally serve carried deep meaning. To me, wearing the uniform reflected not loyalty to a man or a party, but loyalty to an idea, the belief that America always carries the capacity to become more just, more free, and more true to itself.

That experience shaped my understanding of patriotism.

For me, patriotism means the rejection of blind loyalty, the refusal to stay silent in the face of injustice, and the courage to do better with the resolve to see it through.

Too often, those who wield patriotism as a weapon try to claim the flag for themselves. They argue that questioning America makes us un-American. In reality, calling America to live up to its promises is the most patriotic act of all.

That belief shapes how I see America itself. I believe in American exceptionalism, but not in the way it is often misused. It does not come from God, military power, or free markets. America shows its greatness by reaching for ideals it may never fully achieve but will never give up on.

That belief has guided every step of our history. Again and again, America has excluded entire groups of people: women, Black Americans, immigrants, queer people. Again and again, conscience and courage have forced our nation to confront those failures and move closer to justice. We see the echoes of that struggle even now, as ICE targets immigrant families in our communities. Confronting our shortcomings shows strength, not weakness. Striving forward keeps the American story alive when we choose to do so.

You can see that same story unfolding in Vermont today. Families struggle to afford housing. Young people search for belonging. Neighbors wonder if they still have a place in their own community. Greatness never comes from ignoring these realities. It comes when we face them together, when we deliberate, listen, and fight for solutions that carry us closer to our ideals.

That spirit mirrors the one that finally allowed me to serve. It embodies the work of building a nation where freedom and dignity belong to all of us.

That same spirit must guide us now. While dysfunction and division in Washington dominate the headlines, real patriotism means more than watching the fights in the capital. Here in Vermont, we can choose to build communities where families find housing, young people feel like they belong, and neighbors know they matter.

America is exceptional not because it is perfect, but because it keeps striving to be better.