It’s the Fourth of July, 2025. Across the country, grills are sizzling, boats are cruising, and coolers are cracking open. The night skies will soon erupt in fireworks. For most Americans, this holiday means freedom, family, and summer fun.
But I’ve gotten older. Our country has grown louder, more divided, and frankly, more dangerous. And lately, a question keeps echoing in my mind: What does the Fourth of July really mean anymore?
A Brief History of Independence
Let’s start with what this day is supposed to commemorate. On July 4, 1776, the Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence. This bold move declared the thirteen colonies free from British rule. It rejected tyranny and laid the foundation for a self-governed nation.
We still cling to the ideals of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. But here’s the truth: those rights weren’t originally meant for everyone.
A Revolution That Wasn’t for Everyone
The Founding Fathers declared that “all men are created equal” while holding others in chains. The government claimed to defend liberty. Yet, it stole land from Indigenous people. It silenced women. It also excluded poor, disabled, and queer individuals from public life.
In reality, the revolution granted freedom only to a privileged few.
The story of America since 1776 has been long and painful. It shows a struggle to expand that freedom. The aim has been to include the people left out. The abolition of slavery was not handed down. Women’s suffrage and the Civil Rights Movement were not freely given. The Stonewall Riots and the Americans with Disabilities Act were claimed through struggle. People fought for them alongside those who rose up.
They were won by those who refused to be erased.
I write and advocate from within the LGBTQIA and disability communities. For many of us, the fight still isn’t over.
The Ongoing Attacks on LGBTQ+ Rights…Especially Trans Youth
Across the country, we’re seeing a coordinated assault on LGBTQ+ rights, particularly targeting transgender individuals. And it’s not happening in shadows—it’s happening in full public view.
Much of this legislation focuses on minors, stripping away access to gender-affirming care under the false banner of “protection.” But let’s be honest: this isn’t about safety. It’s about political control. It’s about fear. It’s about forcing children to live in bodies and identities that cause them pain.
Most trans youth seeking care are not undergoing surgeries. They’re being prescribed puberty blockers—safe, reversible treatments that offer something simple and profound: time. Time to think, to grow, to become.
Instead of trusting doctors or supporting parents, lawmakers are imposing one-size-fits-all mandates on children they’ve never met.
What happened to freedom?
What happened to parental rights?
What happened to that “small government” so many once held sacred?
35 Years Since the ADA
This year marks 35 years since the Americans with Disabilities Act was signed into law. It’s a landmark civil rights achievement that changed the legal landscape for millions. I was just finishing kindergarten in 1990. I had no idea then how deeply the ADA would shape my path—or how far we’d still have to go.
Because the fight didn’t end in 1990.
If you need a refresher on how we got here, here’s a brief history of the ADA. It still matters. A lot.
As someone who belongs to both the disabled and LGBTQ+ communities, these issues aren’t abstract to me. They’re personal. They’re real. They’re urgent.
Even with the ADA in place, accessibility remains inconsistent. Healthcare is broken. Now, under the current Trump administration, programs that support disabled people are under attack.
These aren’t luxuries. They’re lifelines.
Today, crucial programs for people with disabilities face funding cuts. Leaders are trying to balance the books. This comes after giving massive tax breaks to billionaires and corporations. Their choice? Slash services for the most vulnerable among us.
What We Teach And What We Erase
We say we value freedom, but we whitewash our history to make it more comfortable.
We teach about the Declaration of Independence. We give a brief nod to the Civil Rights Movement. But what about the Stonewall riots? What about the 504 Sit-In, where disabled activists occupied a federal building for nearly a month?
Why do we erase the truths that make us uncomfortable?
Some states are now passing laws that allow parents to pull their kids from school activities that mention LGBTQ+ families. A picture book about two dads becomes “controversial.”
Look—I support the right of families to hold personal beliefs. I also believe education should prepare kids for the real world. It’s a world full of diverse people, relationships, and identities.
Pretending they don’t exist doesn’t protect kids. It confuses them. It primes them to respond with fear—or hate—when they meet someone different.
Independence in a Nation Built by Immigrants
We are a nation of immigrants. But you wouldn’t know it from today’s political discourse.
Let me be clear: I support deporting people who commit serious crimes after entering illegally. That’s not controversial—it’s common sense.
But millions of immigrants—many undocumented—are holding up the scaffolding of our daily lives. They’re working in fields, hotels, kitchens, janitorial services. Jobs many Americans scorn—while depending on them.
And instead of treating these workers with dignity, we vilify them. We build walls and cages. We pass policies that dehumanize.
Meanwhile, billionaires and corporations are shielded from taxes, oversight, and even basic accountability.
The Boiling Pot We Refuse to Notice
The average American is being played.
We’re told to fear immigrants. Disabled people. Trans youth. Anyone “different.” We argue among ourselves. Meanwhile, lawmakers pass legislation that benefits the ultra-wealthy and large corporations. This leaves the rest of us scrambling.
Social safety nets are unraveling.
Corporate profits are protected, while food assistance, Medicaid, and disability programs are slashed.
It’s like the old frog metaphor:
If you slowly turn up the heat, the frog won’t notice it’s boiling.
That’s where we are as a country.
And the water’s getting hotter.
Final Thoughts
So what does the Fourth of July mean anymore?
For me, it’s not fireworks or flags. It’s the chance to remember that the dream of freedom isn’t finished. It’s unfinished business.
The work of building a more inclusive, just, and fair country belongs to us now.
Not just today—but every day.
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