I have a fierce love for my country, but I struggle grappling it. The United States should not be elevated above any other. But I love it, and it’s my home. Am I a patriot? It’s a question I ask honestly, because I don’t put my home above other places. Yet I do love it more than any other place, and perhaps more importantly, I appreciate its good qualities. I understand the bad ones as well. It feels right to engage in such self-questioning; it feels as though growth results. I dislike nationalism, but patriotism is a close cousin that I partake. Perhaps this is the real 9/11 post—sometimes it takes a day or two to settle. If there is an end, it’s not with our country. It’s with our species and our humanity.