Rethinking the Fourth of July — Drones, Fireworks, and Our Complicated Celebration
Happy Fourth of July! I hope you’re spending this day with people and animals you love, hopefully with a day off to enjoy some summer joy. Last night, I had the chance to experience Oceanside’s drone show and fireworks with Richard, my brother, and his family. While the sky lit up with lights and music, my mind drifted into deeper territory.
It was fun to see how many people came out to celebrate. Families gathered, kids ran around with glow sticks, and for a moment, there was a sense of community. But under that celebratory surface, I found myself quietly questioning some things.
As the familiar sounds of Neil Diamond’s “America” played through the speakers, I couldn’t help but think about the contrast between the song’s positive view of immigration and the reality of immigration policy in our country today. The song celebrates the dreams and journeys of people coming to America for a better life — something that feels deeply at odds with the barriers and suffering so many face at our borders now.
It was also hard not to think about the environmental impact of fireworks — their noise, pollution, and fire risks. Not to mention the likelihood that many of the fireworks were produced under exploitative labor conditions overseas, possibly in China. These thoughts don’t cancel out the joy of the evening, but they do complicate it.
We almost missed the whole thing — the Sprinter train was oddly empty and the streets heading to Rancho del Oro were unusually quiet. For a second, I wondered if I had missed a community boycott memo. But as we got closer to the park, we realized we were just late — and the crowd was there, in full force.
The drone show was genuinely impressive. I don’t know where those drones were manufactured, but their choreography in the sky was mesmerizing. And when the fireworks followed, it almost felt like a surprise — like maybe, for once, the drones had been enough.
It’s clear that our national celebrations are shifting, just like everything else in our world. I’m not here to tell you how to feel — only to say that it’s okay if your feelings are a little mixed. Mine were, too.
This Fourth of July, I’m learning to hold both joy and concern in the same breath. To celebrate and question. To love this place and still hope we do better.