It’s 2016 and I don't know what patriotism means. I know it’s red white and blue and it comes in the shape of a gun. I know it’s loud and shiny and smells like apple pie and is decorated with patches and tassels. It’s twisted and idyllic, comforting those who have lost lovers and sons to war and nurturing those whose definition of equality is only as long as a barrel of a rifle. The illusion of democracy, of patriotism, is rooted at the base of American tradition. But what does it mean to be a single parent on welfare? A latchkey kid or rehabilitated veteran? In the immediate aftermath of the 2016 election, I brought my camera (and these questions) to the Veteran’s Day Parade in Savannah, GA.
This is what I found.