I Am American: The Freedom, The Faith, and The Truth We Forget

By Clarence C. Mitchell

✉️ Editor’s Note — Letters from the Table

Some stories remind us where we come from; others remind us who we are. In this Letter from the Table, Clarence C. Mitchell reflects on the meaning of being American — not through politics or party, but through pride, gratitude, and faith. It’s a reminder that freedom is more than a word on paper — it’s a spirit we’re all called to protect.

 

I am American first — New Yorker second.

When I travel across this country, no matter where I’ve gone in my fifty years, nobody ever looked at me and said, “Look at that Black American.” They looked at me and said, “You must be from New York.”

My profile is different. My swagger is different. My walk is different. My speech is different — the way I talk, the way I sound. When I step into a room, I’m a New Yorker — every part of me says it.

And when I’ve traveled abroad, no matter what country I’ve stepped into, they never said, “Look at that Black American.” They said one word: “American?” — only American.

But when I come home, the paperwork asks me to check a box: Black, African American, Latino American.

No. I’m American.

I was born American. And I believe if you were born here — or if you earned your citizenship here — then you’re American. Period.

---

People talk about reform. You want true reform? Then stop classifying people by race.

American is American — no matter where you’re from, what you look like, or what your faith may be. Because no matter where you go on this earth, the world will always see you as just an American.

And that’s how we should see each other here at home — as Americans.

---

As a free American — a man whose grandfather and his father before him once lived enslaved — I now have the freedom to own my business, to own my home, to live where I choose.

You can’t take that from me.

I am an American. I am a free American. And my freedom does not come with a price tag. I won’t trade it for anything.

I don’t have a king — and the only pledge I’ve ever made is the Pledge of Allegiance to this country, never to a man. If I bow down, it’s only to my God. That’s the only King I serve.

---

I’ve never folded for anyone — and I never will. And I’ll never teach my son to fold either.

We stand ten toes up, because we’re American first — and always New Yorkers.

Don’t talk to me about John Wayne or cowboy characters on screen. If you’re ready to roll over for a man who wants to play king, that’s your weakness — not mine.

Because there’s only one King — the Lord Himself. And that’s where I stand.

---

Like it or not. Agree or don’t. At the end of the day, freedom is what matters.

Freedom that men and women fought and died for. Freedom that must survive through every generation.

I have uncles still alive today — men who fought for this country wearing its uniform, saluting its flag, and risking their lives under its promise of liberty.

They didn’t have the freedom to vote, but they had the burden to fight. They could march into war, but not into a voting booth.

They were allowed to defend a nation that still refused to fully recognize their humanity. They came home draped in medals, yet wrapped in the same chains of inequality they’d left behind.

They fought wars and came back to a country that didn’t recognize their freedom.

Make it make sense.

Not until 1964 did that freedom finally meet them on paper — nearly a lifetime too late.

My uncle is 90 years old now, and he’s living long enough to see a time that echoes what he endured as a boy. And that should shake every conscience in this country — because no American should ever have to fight for a freedom that doesn’t fight for them.

---

I am an American. A true American.

My freedom — my freedom to live how I choose, to eat what I want, to teach my son how to be a man, to speak my truth — that freedom means something.

The freedom to read what I want to read. To listen to what I want to listen to. To write what I want to write. To say what I need to say.

You’ve had your time to speak hatred and call it freedom. Well, now it’s time for love to speak louder.

We’re going to let love ring louder than hate — because love is freedom too. Love is courage. Love is truth.

You say your First Amendment gives you the right to spread hate? Then mine gives me the right to say this: My freedom is equal to yours.