Dwain Northey

When Exactly Was “Again”?

Whenever someone asks me what trend I wish would disappear, my answer is simple: MAGA.

Now before anyone immediately reaches for the keyboard to accuse me of hating America, let me stop you. I’m an American. I’m a veteran. I love this country enough to believe it can always become something better. Patriotism isn’t believing your country has never made mistakes. Patriotism is loving it enough to acknowledge its failures and demanding that it live up to the ideals it proudly proclaims.

I have absolutely no problem with the phrase “Make America Great.”

Who wouldn’t want America to be great?

In fact, even Ronald Reagan—whose policies I disagreed with on many fronts—understood the distinction. His campaign message was “Let’s Make America Great.” Whether you supported his policies or not, his slogan was aspirational. It was about striving to improve the nation. It looked forward.

Donald Trump added one word.

Again.

That single word changes everything.

It isn’t just a slogan anymore. It’s a historical claim. The word “again” carries a timestamp. It assumes there was some point in our past when America had already reached greatness and that our mission is simply to return there.

So I ask the same question every time I hear someone proudly proclaim, “Make America Great Again.”

When?

Give me the year.

Not when America was great for people who looked like me.

Not when it was great for wealthy Americans.

Not when it was great for straight white Christian men.

Tell me when America was great for everyone.

When was it great for white men, Black men, brown men, white women, Black women, brown women, Native Americans, Asian Americans, immigrants, LGBTQ Americans, and transgender Americans—all at the same time?

Because if your answer begins with, “Well, it was great for…” followed by one particular group, then you’ve already answered my question.

It wasn’t great for everyone.

Was it when slavery was legal?

When women couldn’t vote?

When Native Americans were forced from their lands?

When Chinese immigrants helped build the railroads while being treated as second-class citizens and later excluded by law?

When Japanese Americans were imprisoned in internment camps?

When Black Americans lived under Jim Crow and were denied the right to vote through intimidation and violence?

When interracial marriage was illegal?

When LGBTQ Americans had to hide who they were to keep their jobs, homes, and families?

When transgender Americans were treated as though they didn’t even deserve to exist?

Exactly which version of America are we trying to return to?

History isn’t a Norman Rockwell painting.

It’s complicated.

America has always been a work in progress.

And that’s actually one of the things I admire most about this country.

Compared to civilizations that have existed for thousands of years, we’re barely 250 years old. In the grand scheme of human history, we’re teenagers. We’re still growing up. We’re still making mistakes. We’re still trying to figure out what it actually means to live up to the ideals we wrote down in 1776 and codified in the Constitution.

Growth is messy.

Our Constitution wasn’t perfect, which is why it has amendments.

Our laws weren’t perfect, which is why generations fought to change them.

Our society wasn’t perfect.

It still isn’t.

That isn’t weakness.

That’s the American experiment.

America’s greatest achievements have never come from trying to recreate the past. They’ve come from expanding the circle of who gets included in the American promise. Abolishing slavery. Expanding voting rights. Civil rights legislation. Marriage equality. Every generation has challenged the previous one to make this country more faithful to its own ideals.

None of that happened because we looked backward.

It happened because we moved forward.

That’s why I can enthusiastically support the idea of making America great. Every patriot should want that. Every veteran who has worn the uniform should want that. Every citizen should want that.

What I cannot support is pretending there was some mythical golden age that worked for everyone.

Nostalgia has a funny way of editing history.

It remembers cheap gas but forgets redlining.

It remembers booming factories but forgets who wasn’t allowed to work in them.

It remembers strong families but forgets the families that had to hide who they loved.

It remembers prosperity while ignoring who was excluded from it.

If your definition of greatness only worked for certain Americans, then it wasn’t greatness.

It was privilege.

As a veteran, I didn’t swear an oath to a political party or to a campaign slogan. I swore an oath to defend the Constitution—a living document designed to be strengthened by each generation. That oath wasn’t about preserving nostalgia. It was about preserving the possibility that tomorrow could be better than yesterday.

So yes, let’s make America great.

Absolutely.

But don’t ask me to make it great again until someone can answer one simple question honestly.

Again… when?

Show me the year.

Show me the decade.

Show me the moment in our 250-year history when America was genuinely great for everyone—not just for those who held the most power.

Until someone can answer that, I’d rather keep working toward an America that has yet to exist than spend my life chasing one that never did.

Because the true promise of America has never been that we were perfect.

It’s that we always had the capacity to become better.

That’s the America worth fighting for.