Mt. Rushmore?

I’m learning that patriotism is a funny thing to think about. I think that it’s funny because you never know what situation will or won’t make you feel patriotic. For some it may be paying taxes or serving in the Armed Forces, or hearing the recording of Whitney Houston singing the National Anthem on the Radio and still for some it may be witnessing the enormity of Mt. Rushmore. For me personally, there is almost nothing about Mt. Rushmore that evokes a spirit of patriotism. I would almost venture to say that Mt. Rushmore made me feel the most unpatriotic that I’ve ever felt.
Driving through the countryside heading to the monument was awesome—for a while. It was good until we got to the town right in front of Mt. Rushmore and I was slapped in the face with commercialism. We went from driving down a road with hills and grass on both sides to driving down a street with “cute little shops” positioned all around us. It was a complete and utter atrocious MESS. Initially I was annoyed that people would have the moxie to try and make money off of the fore fathers sacred spot. This was before the mountain was actually in my view and I had still some image or ideal of what my experience would be and what my reaction to the mountain would be at first glance. But then I saw it, and all of that went away almost instantly.
It was a mountain. Nothing more or less. I wasn’t really expecting it to be anything more than that but I have to admit, I was disappointed to see a simple mountain with carvings before me. But trying to be the ideal American citizen I checked those thoughts and settled on the idea that maybe I just needed to be up closer. So I waited to form an opinion. I waited for our van to pass through the main gate after paying ten dollars to park for a twenty minute visit; I waited for our divided group to join right in front of the park; I waited for the correspondent from the Today Show to arrive and set up her paraphernalia; I waited for the green light from my professor to even enter the park; I even waited to pass through the anteroom lined with four sided columns holding a different state flag on each side and an inscription below the flag with each state’s name, place in the order of admission, and year that it was admitted into the United States. I felt a small glimmer of pride as I passed the Illinois flag, and hoped it would carry over to the “Big Guys,” but it didn’t.
There was no excuse either. There was nothing else (besides a few hundred feet of air) standing in my way. There was no type of interference between me and Rushmore and yet I still felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I quickly went to check myself again thinking that maybe I don’t really know how to appreciate anything other than a city, especially something so rural as Mount Rushmore…But then I began to recall my time yesterday, rafting in the Yellowstone River, and the excitement that I felt as I tried my hardest to man-handle those rapids; and the day before in Glacier Park admiring the beauty of the Rockies for just a moment even through the wet and the cold; and my time spent in the abundance of the Redwood Forest completely humbled by the beauty and timelessness of each tree; and my hike in the Grand Canyon along with the feeling of accomplishment that I felt when I reached the top. I realized that I was more than able to appreciate nature, and that there’s was nothing wrong with me. There was something wrong with this National Park.
The issue for me wasn’t with the Mountain itself, just like my issue wasn’t with the forefathers. My issue was with the idea of posting their dead faces on a mountain. Wasn’t it beautiful enough before? Why is George Washington’s face necessary for the side of any mountain? Because he was our first president? That means absolutely nothing. I think that Mt. Rushmore is a prime example of the negative aspects of American culture that people hate so much: this feeling of self entitlement. Who said it was okay to destroy this mountain in order to honor some dead guys? I understand that they did a lot for our country and I appreciate it (although as a black man, I’m more than comfortable saying that only one of them really did anything for me) but they do not deserve to be idolized in such a way. No one does. I’m sure that some would say that we idolize some celebrities, but Graceland, Neverland, and every other celebrity shrine combined do not match Mt. Rushmore. Unlike some of those shrines, Mt. Rushmore will be around for a very long time. Couldn’t we have just stuck to passing down the American Legacy through the history books?
I think that Joni Mitchell said it best in “Big Yellow Taxi,” when she said,
They paved paradise and put a parking lot
That they did Joni, that they did…