I apologize in advance if this is a downer, but I intentionally published it the day after the Super Bowl in an attempt to not be a buzzkill.
I wrote about how the “black national anthem” would be performed at the Super Bowl for a client at work, and it prompted me to rewatch Whitney Houston’s iconic and legendary 1992 rendition. Her version of the National Anthem altered my brain chemistry. I have it saved on Spotify, and I find myself rewatching the video at random points throughout the year. Sometimes when I was drunk in college, I would play it when I got home from the bars or parties and cry. And I cried this time, dead sober in the middle of the afternoon on a work day, but this time was different.
I wasn’t just moved, I was mourning.
Watching a crowd full of happy, attractive people waving American flags as a black woman belted out our nation’s most sacred song with a command and talent so poignant it gave new life to a 178 year old poem on a random Friday was the first time I really felt like the country I grew up in no longer exists.
I do my best to resist a defeatist mentality, because I know that the Left wants me to feel defeated. They want me to feel hopeless and helpless as I watch them destroy everything I love. And if I think about something long enough, I can usually reframe it in a more positive and productive perspective or at the very least find a silver lining.
But watching this footage I’d probably seen at least 50 times already made me a hysterical mess, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I can’t believe what America’s enemies have accomplished in 30 short years.
I can’t believe that the Left has been so successful in its hijacking of the American mind that a “black national anthem” is being performed at the Super Bowl for the fourth year in a row and the dumbest among us call it progress.
I can’t believe we’re so far gone that we’ve allowed sports – the one thing we could count on to unite us – to become yet another avenue for division and Marxist posturing.
I wept watching that video, because even though I wasn’t alive yet, that’s the America I grew up in. And when you live in a place like Florida, sometimes it feels like the America you still live in – but even here the illusion is still fragile. Fun fact, the Super Bowl Whitney Houston sang at was right here in Tampa.
If Whitney Houston were able to perform the National Anthem today, there would probably be more Palestinian and Israeli flags waving in the stands than American. And I realize that we were at the onset of a war at the 92 Super Bowl, so people were feeling a little more nationalistic than usual. But that doesn’t change my point of view, because the level of investment that so many Americans have in Israel vs Palestine has illuminated a lack of investment in and identity with our own country. Also, if the United States were attacked today I genuinely believe a large share of our population would sympathize with our adversaries.
I like to think that with her voice and stage presence, she’d be able to break through to even the most hardened of libtards, but I honestly doubt it. I imagine them watching her performance with dead eyes and hearts either filled with contempt or apathy. I imagine them either processing one of the most beautiful editions of our National Anthem like an unskippable YouTube ad, or frothing with hate and accusing Whitney of “selling out” for performing a white supremacist ballad at a capitalist event. But then again, these people don’t believe in accountability – especially for “marginalized people” – so they’d probably just shift blame to the NFL and accuse them of exploiting her and compare it to a minstrel show without a hint of irony or self awareness.
I wonder if in this day and age, where celebrities seem to earn more clout by conforming to the left wing dogma, and where Americans treat patriotism for their own country like it’s outdated and shameful, Whitney Houston would even agree to perform the National Anthem at the Super Bowl.
I look at that video both in awe of who we used to be and in awe of who we’ve become. We’re worse in every way.
A black pop star chosen for her talent and rising profile – not to make a point or fill a quota – gave one of the most powerful performances of the Star Spangled Banner in the history of the song. The focus wasn’t on race, or gender, or any other immutable characteristic. We were proud, we were united and we were one. And after 30 years of “progress” the idea of replicating that moment in time is almost unthinkable.
I know that the majority of Americans still love America, because if the left had the majority they wouldn’t have to censor us, they wouldn’t have to manipulate our elections, and they wouldn’t have to rewrite our Constitution to keep themselves in power. I find comfort in that. But I can’t ignore what I see all around me compared to what I saw growing up, and I hope a future exists where one National Anthem is enough for every American again.