What does it mean to be an American? This seems like an appropriate question to ask as the United States celebrates 250 years of existence in a few days.

The answer will inevitably mean different things to whomever answers the question.

One thing that amazes me about the United States is that we welcome (I use that word loosely) people from pretty much anywhere (or at least we have). These newcomers have the opportunity to become an American.

The definition of an American isn’t just someone who was born here. It’s someone who lives in the United States.

That is profound. If you were to move to Mexico, you would not become a Mexican; move to the U.K. and you are not British; move to Japan and you are not Japanese.

That’s one of the things that makes the United States so special—people from elsewhere can become one of us. One of us in their own, individual way. By doing so they grow the definition of who is an American and what it means to be an American.

I love that. I love that there is no easy definition of what it means to be American. We are a blend of cultures, religions, cuisine, ethnicities, likes, dislikes, and so much more.

I used to love that the United States didn’t have an official language. That changed with Trump signing an executive order on March 1, 2025, making English the official language. Too bad.

I love the diversity of the United States. To me, it would be better if we celebrated our differences, our uniqueness, our individuality. Those who want everyone to be the same—to pray to the same god, to look the same, sound the same, believe all the same things, well, that isn’t a country I want to live in.

The United States is better because of its diversity. We just need to be doing a better job of embracing our diversity and being more inclusive. Let’s work on that in the next 250 years.