The approach of the United States’ 250th anniversary raises important questions and necessitates examination of the country’s history. Branded nationally as “America 250,” the upcoming semiquincentennial marks a milestone that brings both celebration and reflection, not just on the nation’s founding, but also on the conflicts, contradictions and unfinished struggles that have defined the United States since the first meeting of the Continental Congress in 1774.
At Carleton, those questions have been articulated through a “Wish Wall” installed in Gould Library. Three large boards ask students to write their hopes for America in 2036, 2076 (the tricentennial) and 2176. The result is a wide variety of earnest, cynical, humorous or deeply revealing thoughts. The wishes offer a snapshot of how Carleton is grappling with what America’s past means for its future.
Carleton History Professor Serena Zabin, who specializes in early American history, is skeptical of the narrative she sees emerging from the federal government’s approach to America 250. “The administration is trying to tell a story that is untruthfully sanitized about the origins of the country and its struggles,” she said. “That kind of storytelling risks incoherence. There’s no way to explain how we got to the place we are now if we cut out of it lots of the people who lived here and most of the things that we fought about.”
Those fights, Zabin emphasized, were foundational. “Debates over slavery and race, the relationships between men and women, Indigenous land and sovereignty, economic power and who gets to participate in political life are the origins of who we are. We live with that. We need to know that conflict.”
The Wish Wall echoes similar perspectives on the importance of confronting differences. One Wish Wall post read “For our country to reflect on our deep contradictions but also our sometimes beautiful history of striving for equality and liberty.” Another looked ten years ahead and hoped “for the rights of all people to be recognized and celebrated,” while others focused on concrete needs like affordable housing, healthcare and safety for immigrants and people of color.
This is not the first time the country has struggled to mark a major anniversary. Zabin pointed to the 1976 Bicentennial as a moment of confusion rather than unity. “In the wake of Watergate and the Vietnam War, Americans were unsure how to celebrate. They produced a lot of kitsch, lots of red, white and blue hats and people painting fire hydrants,” she said. “The event was even mockingly dubbed the Buy-centennial because of the flood of consumer goods.”
The Bicentennial, however, spurred a wave of new historical scholarship that took on serious questions that had long been sidelined: the role of women in the Revolution, the relationship between slavery and liberty and the lived experiences of people excluded from political power. Those questions reshaped how historians and eventually the public and understood the founding era.
Zabin sees America 250 as similarly poised between celebration, condemnation and commemoration. Ideally, she said, “it should be all three.” There are elements worth celebrating, particularly the “foundational ideas of constitutional order, democracy and the rule of law,” which many Americans have recently rediscovered their commitment to. At the same time, commemoration requires acknowledging how fragile that experiment has always been. Furthermore, condemnation necessistates recognizing the work that remains unfinished.
“I’m not a big person for casting blame,” Zabin added. “Yelling, scolding ourselves is never really helpful for moving forward.” Instead, she framed reflection as “a tool for understanding how the nation arrived at its present moment.”
One of the challenges facing America 250, Zabin argued, is “that Americans no longer agree on even the basic founding principles of their shared past. Institutions once seen as neutral arbiters of history, such as the Smithsonian Institution, PBS, or documentarians like Ken Burns, are now viewed by many as partisan.”
That disagreement shapes which stories are emphasized and which are downplayed. Zabin pointed to a common misunderstanding between the American Revolution as a political movement and the Revolutionary War as a violent conflict. “Some people want to emphasize one and some the other,” she said, “but I think that their entanglement is actually part of the story.”
Older myths have also fallen away. Nineteenth-century tales of flawless founders, such as the cherry tree legend of George Washington, no longer hold the same prevalence in society as they once did. At the same time, historical anecdotes such as Abigail Adams’ famous plea to John Adams to “remember the ladies” in the Bill of Rights have emerged but remain on the sidelines. Long recognized by historians, this exchange has yet to be fully integrated into public understandings of the founding.
The Wish Wall reveals how these historical debates translate into hopes and anxieties. Wishes for the next ten years cluster around material security and representation: affordable housing, healthcare and a government that “reflects our desires and works hand in hand with its people.” Others are overtly political, including one that hopes “For Donald Trump’s 5th term as president to have started,” a line that stands out both for its provocation and its reflection of deep polarization in today’s America. Another bleakly ironic wish read, “For the rich to get richer and the poor to get poorer.”
Looking ahead to 2076, the tone shifts toward broader ideals. Students wish for children to grow up “feeling safe, loved, respected and celebrated,” for an end to “government-sanctioned ethnic violence,” and for a healthier climate. Several echo the language of the Declaration of Independence, hoping to “secure life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for all Americans.” Others imagine more speculative futures, including humans co-evolving with AI “to achieve a greater humanity for all creatures on earth.”
The board is not without humor, though. One student envisions a “Jimmy Carter Dictatorship,” an absurd idea that could be interpreted as a mockery of a tyrannical US government. Another wish imagines that “The US will not be a country anymore.”
By 2176, the wishes become almost philosophical. Students hope for democracy to “adapt to the current movement,” for the Earth to heal and for “the good guys to win.” Multiple entries emphasize care, such as safety nets for the poor, support for those in need and love for neighbors. Peace and a habitable planet recur several times on the board.
Zabin sees in these wishes a continuation of debates that stretch back to the eighteenth century. Questions about who belongs in a democracy, how power should be distributed and how individual rights relate to the common good were present at the founding and, in her view, are fundamentally irresolvable. “I expect we’re still going to be arguing about them” in 2076, she said.
When asked to name the most influential figures in early American history, Zabin emphasized those who shaped ideas rather than simply held office. She highlighted Thomas Paine for “articulating revolutionary arguments in language ordinary people could grasp”; Frederick Douglass for “redefining what it meant to be American in the face of slavery”; and Adams for “her lasting influence on women’s rights movements long after her lifetime.” She also pointed to Molly Brant, a Haudenosaunee leader, whose diplomacy highlights that not everyone affected by the Revolution chose to become part of the United States.
At Carleton, America 250 is not a celebration but rather a moment of reflection to ask where the country has been, who has been left out of the story and what kind of experiment democracy should become next.
If the Wish Wall is any indication, students are not asking for a perfect past. They are asking for honesty, care and the possibility that the nation’s future might better live up to its most ambitious ideals.
