I was born on July 4th, and as far as holiday birthdays go, it’s a pretty good deal. Christmas babies definitely get the short end of the stick (why buy you birthday gifts if you’ll be getting a Christmas one?) and Thanksgiving and St. Patrick’s fall somewhere in the middle (turkey and/or leprechaun-themed socks again?), sharing with America means you always get the day off, you nearly always have a great day for grilling and if you like a lot of attention, you can always pretend they’re shooting off fireworks just for you.
My parents immigrated to the United States and it just so happens that a Filipino holiday, Republic Day falls on the fourth of July as well. It’s officially also an independence day, as it marks the Philippines forming a republic after years of being a U.S. colony. Definitely not as much fanfare around that holiday, but my birthday has always been a fascinating reminder to me about an important part of my identity.
Normally, I spend my birthday with my family, but this year, I figured that sharing my birthday with a 250-year-old nation could be a fun time in Tahoe.
Yes, I know locals usually run for cover around this time. In fact, before the weekend even started, I noticed quite a few tourists had already come to the beaches I visit on my daily walks. (Maybe they were taking a page out of founding father John Adam’s book, who believed we should celebrate on July 2nd, when the vote was actually cast on the Declaration of Independence.) Despite all that, I settled in on the grass across from St. Theresa’s to watch the parade on the morning of Independence Day.
Having been in quite a few parades myself, it’s funny to be on the sidelines. In the past, I’ve had to prep for singing and dancing on a float, marching for a 2.5 mile stretch or handing out stickers and candy in 100 degree weather. This time, I mostly just snapped pictures and waved back at kids with gap-toothed grins beaming at the crowd.
After that hour of spectating, I took a short walk down to Regan Beach, curious to see what the gatherings looked like. There was nary a bare patch of grass: massive tents of families, picnic blankets of teenagers, paddleboarding and kayaking gear stretched out across every inch of the park. It was mildly impressive, but mostly claustrophobic. I imagine pretty much every beach was the same way.
My partner and friends quickly whisked me away to our much quieter backyard barbecue that we’d planned—and genuinely, that to me is what any holiday is actually about. I had a wonderful time just chowing down and catching up with everyone, grilling corn and playing cornhole (which felt right, since the game was invented in North America.)
It was also kind of a going-away party. Frequent readers of the Tribune will recall that my stories are usually accompanied by a note about the California Local News Fellowship, which was always going to be a two-year program. I will be transitioning to a new job by the end of this month and officially moving out of Tahoe by the end of summer.
That was the real reason I wanted to spend my birthday here in South Lake Tahoe—I wanted to have some kind of marker for this era of my life, where I got to work full-time as a reporter at the Tribune and the Sun.
The Fourth of July is ultimately a holiday that celebrates our nation striking out on its own, forging its own identity and its own political reality. And I can’t say that America figured it out after all this time. Over the last 250 years, there has been amazing good and progress, as well as a great many mistakes and evils that we’ve tried to change. The tumult of the last decade has been my only political reality: the first time I got to vote was in 2016.
Being a local journalist and connecting with so many different communities gave me the chance to see what life is like for everyday Americans. From interviewing candidates for the upcoming election and attending school meetings, talking to business owners and tribe members, reporting on rallies and city council meetings, I got to know so many people and see so many different sides of Tahoe—which itself, is just a fraction, a tiny glimpse of the country I live in.
When I walked out to Lakeview Commons to watch the fireworks show, I was surrounded by all stripes of people. Bright flowers bloomed in the sky, exploding into sparks that rained down like so many shooting stars. I used to make birthday wishes while watching fireworks rather than blowing out candles. Guess I thought Roman candles were a little more exciting.
It’s been a whirlwind ride for me between 26 and 28 years old. I can’t imagine what the next years are going to be like for America or even for myself. But I can tell you this: I’m glad I spent the holiday here, if only to remind myself of what an honor it’s been to write for you all here in Tahoe.
I’ll hopefully still be freelancing in Tahoe, so stay in touch at mxeliramos@gmail.com! Thank you to every community here that has let me interview them and has supported me through my time here, especially to Lake Tahoe Pride and of course, the Tahoe Daily Tribune and Sierra Sun teams. And to everyone keeping up to date with local news, thank you for your readership.
