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What America Means to Me

I was 8-years-old and in the second grade in 1976, the Bicentennial Year for the United States. The small town I lived in had an essay contest with the subject “What America Means to Me.”

My fiercely jingoistic writing1 won second place, which was a silver dollar, and I got to read my essay in front of the town council. My mom saved it and gave it to me a few years ago.

Here’s that essay:

America is a loving union on earth and beautiful. Im glad christopher columbus found it. With people helping each other and sharing... More