I often lose sight of one of my most foundational guiding principles. And judging by the world around me, I’m not the only one.
Allow me to introduce myself.
My name is Jakob Fay (as my Convention of States byline daily announces). I’m 21 years old. I’ve been actively involved in politics since 2015 (when I was 13). Politics is truly one of my great passions in life. I write about it, think about it, wake up and read about it, five days a week at least.
But before the politics — before the elections and the civics and all that super-political stuff — there was history. And history books. Between politics and history, the latter will always come first for me.
Since I was young, my mom, who doubled as my teacher, instilled within me a deep and abiding love for this country and its heritage. As a boy, my two areas of interest were the Pilgrims and the Civil War (I even wrote a short book about the Pilgrims in grade school). If I could meet any five heroes from American history, I would easily choose George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Ulysses S. Grant, Theodore Roosevelt, and Martin Luther King Jr. Oh, wait. Actually, no, maybe James Madison. Or Daniel Boone and Davy Crocket. But what about Jackie Robinson? — I’d like to meet him, too. Oh, and Jimmy Stewart. And Ronald Reagan. And…. Never mind. The point is: I love history, and I love our American heroes. A lot.
Eventually, that love for history morphed into a passion for politics. I dove headfirst into this strange new world, not because Robert’s Rules and the intricacies of the legislative process intrigued me (at least, not at first — believe me, I’m a geek about that kind of stuff now), but because I loved this country too much to watch it fail. I wanted to play a part in the great American story. I wanted to ensure that the story I grew up reading did not end before my children and grandchildren read it. That’s what motivated me: love of country.
I have often compared my younger self to Jefferson Smith from Frank Capra’s 1939 classic, “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” — naive, quixotic, full of starry-eyed suppositions about what it means to be an American… until reality hit. Until the daily grind of politics — suddenly, a dirty word — choked out my sentimentality. Until the romantic prose of the old American speechmakers gave way to the drab, monotonous, and, above all, frustrating language of the daily bad news cycle.
That was disappointing.
Now I spend my days furious. Furious at the people on X. Furious at the people in Congress. Furious at everyone who doesn’t act, vote, and think like me.
Until I forget.
...
We live in the greatest country in the world.
Pause.
Did you catch that?
Again.
We live in the greatest country in the world.
When was the last time you pondered that beautiful reality? When was the last time you sat on your back porch, watched the sunset, and whispered under your breath, “Man, I love America.” When was the last time you lived like you were in one of those schmaltzy country songs we blare on Independence Day?
If you’re like me, it’s probably been too long. Way too long.
You see, somewhere along the way we lost sight of our “why.” Neck-deep in the fight for liberty, we lost sight of why we joined this fight in the first place. As I wrote for the 4th of July two years ago, “it wasn’t because we wanted to prove our deranged political opponents wrong.” It was because we loved this country, believed in her creed, and wanted to preserve her for future generations. That was our “why.”
I know politics can be infuriating at times. But pick up a book. Watch “Mr. Smith.” Indulge yourself in the simple joys of being a starry-eyed patriot and dreamer. Remind yourself daily — in the soothing, baritone voice of Johhny Cash — that “we've got the greatest country here on God's green earth.” Believe it. Set your sights on the “why.” And then fight.
And together, by God’s grace, let’s save this country.
Let’s claim our place in the great American story.
