America 250

​Fifty years ago, I was a high school senior getting ready to graduate during America’s Bicentennial. At 18, life felt like it was just getting started. I had a great boyfriend, talking about marriage. He was joining the Navy, and I was filling out college applications. The future felt wide open, and I couldn’t wait to see where it would take us.

That doesn’t mean 1976 was perfect. It definitely wasn’t. America was still trying to recover from the Vietnam War. People were shaken by Watergate and the resignation of Richard Nixon. Inflation was high, unemployment worried a lot of families, the energy crisis had disrupted daily life, and the Cold War was always there in the background.

But here’s what I remember most.

In my little corner of the world, life still felt hopeful.

The Bicentennial wasn’t just something on the calendar—it felt like a big deal. Small-town parades filled the streets. Mailboxes were painted with patriotic scenes. Flags were everywhere. Store windows were decorated in red, white, and blue. There was real excitement about celebrating 200 years of independence.

Ironically, my biggest complaint was my graduation tassel. Instead of our school’s scarlet and gray, we got red, white, and blue tassels. Looking back now, I have to laugh. If that was my biggest worry, I had a pretty good life.

Fast forward fifty years. Today’s graduating seniors are stepping into a world that asks a lot more of them than mine did. They worry about paying for college before they’ve even chosen a major. Many wonder if they’ll ever be able to afford a home. Student debt is already on their minds before classes even begin.

They’re growing up with school shootings as part of a life possibility, not something rare. Social media is always there, bringing connection but also constant comparison. Anxiety, depression, and loneliness are talked about more openly because so many young people are dealing with them.

They watch wars unfold in real time on their phones. They hear daily conversations about political division, climate change, artificial intelligence, cybercrime, misinformation, housing costs, healthcare, and an economy that often feels stacked against them.

A lot of them are carrying the weight of wondering not just what they want to do, but whether the world they’re stepping into will feel stable enough to build a life.

That’s something I don’t remember feeling in 1976.

Of course, every generation thinks its challenges are unique. Ours had plenty. But there was also a sense that things would probably get better. The future felt like something to look forward to.

This year, as America marks 250 years, I don’t feel the same excitement that surrounded the Bicentennial. Maybe part of that is just being older and seeing things differently. But I also think something has shifted.

In 1976, even with everything going on, we seemed ready to celebrate what we had in common.

In 2026, we often seem more focused on what separates us.

I know it’s easy to look back and remember things more fondly than they really were. 1976 wasn’t perfect. But I do miss the feeling that we could pause, wave a flag together, and feel proud of how far we’d come. Because every graduating class deserves what I felt walking across that stage in 1976—not certainty, but hope. The feeling that the future holds possibilities, not just problems. Maybe that’s the best thing we can give the next generation.