After 2025 became 2026 and I had watched the ball drop in Times Square, I saw a short clip of the projections on the Washington Monument celebrating the beginning of America's 250th anniversary. Semiquincentennial festivities will surely be at their height this summer, but this is nevertheless intended to be a year-long celebration — and yet, we're lacking in both the planning and the enthusiasm.
I can't help but contrast our current moment with the Bicentennial in 1976. Federal planning began a decade prior, and by the time the festivities came around, it became a major cultural moment. Brands even commercialized on red, white and blue versions of their regular products, and, with the recent end of the Vietnam War, Americans saw the year as a time to ponder the upheaval of recent and the subsequent direction of the nation.
In 2026, the energy surrounding another national birthday is more lukewarm. Over the past few years, the bipartisan America250 Commission — tasked by Congress to "engage every American" with this year's celebration — has had to contend with the apathy from the public, legal action, false starts and, now, President Donald Trump's own Task Force 250, an executively organized unit putting together an "extraordinary celebration" of the nation's 250th.
America250's summer plans include recording oral histories, burying time capsules and organizing field trips. Task Force 250, on the other hand, plans for a UFC fight on the White House lawn, a national prayer event and, most notably, a competition for high school students eerily similar to "The Hunger Games."
With all this in mind, it sounds like the semiquincentennial is bound to be a mess. And considering our current political moment — dominated by large-scale detentions and deportations —, celebrating America's birthday can seem to feel more like a nationalist display. Both disillusionment and a floundering of plans make it clear that America250 struggles not only with organizing itself, but also with trying to engage all citizens.
That doesn't mean, though, that we have to completely disregard any sort of activity that centers on America's history and present. Instead of taking part in nationwide celebrations, we can instead take the initiative to engage with the history directly surrounding us in our states and local communities by planning our own celebrations.
This year is supposed to be a celebration of the country's proclaimed independence dating back to 1776, but 33 states and territories were not yet part of the nation. Alaska was still a Russian territory, Texas a Spanish territory. Michigan was 61 years away from gaining statehood.
If we're to celebrate the 250th anniversary of American independence, then we also ought to celebrate the unique histories of these states, too. Focusing on place-specific events and communities that shaped history before and after unification provides a more ample opportunity to consider how the smaller components of a nation shaped the greater America into what it is today. This focus on local history, in turn, prompts us to consider our own role within our communities, states and nation.
Opting out of something like Task Force 250's national prayer event should not equate to disregarding any sort of engagement with our nation's past or present. If we see this summer only as a celebration of the nation or the planned events as the only way we can celebrate, then we also ignore the function of creating meaningful celebrations of local and state histories. Taking initiative to engage in such celebrations means recognizing that history is more than just a top-down or nation-to-state process. It means recognizing your own ability to partake in commemorative history rather than allowing the president to solely shape a national anniversary.
And if you happen to be someone who, in spite of the messy plans and the current state of the nation, is nevertheless looking forward to the broader America250 celebration, you can certainly find ways of marrying the two. National history is local history and vice versa, and these formal, organized events can be paired with the museum visits or tours you plan on your own. Grand Rapids, for example, will offer tours in its museums in addition to a concert series. These locally-organized events — paired with the book clubs or parties we organize ourselves — serve as a bridge between us and a national celebration.
Engaging with local history doesn't take on a single form. It can mean visiting a museum or historic site, or it might mean booking a tour with a local guide who takes you through nearby places of historical significance. It can even be something as small as asking your local library for a reading list that includes interesting stories about your city or state, or visiting your closest historic cemetery and taking in the names who, long before you existed, shaped the place where you live today. Taking part in these more local histories connects people to their communities or home states, allowing them to reassess and redefine the meaning of "American" on their own terms.
The biggest national events might be the ones with the most attention this summer, but the semiquincentennial is really what you make it. If you happen to be in Michigan this summer, consider visiting the places around the state that shaped both state and national history. There's the Detroit Historical Museum or Lansing's Michigan History Center. Grand Rapids has the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Museum, while Detroit has the Motown Museum inside the former Hitsville U.S.A.
In Ann Arbor alone, we have our own ways of connecting local stories to the nation's. Historical markers around the city recount transformative instances of abolition or LGBTQ+ activism, and in Forest Hill Cemetery lie important figures who shaped not just the University of Michigan or the city of Ann Arbor, but also the country at large. Even if you're not in the area for the summer, you can still look into what other activities you might find around you to interpret your home's history.
Looking into the past of a state or locality, rather than just our nation's story, is a recognition of the fact that history is not shaped only by founding fathers and presidents, but also by communities and everyday people who take small but thoughtful actions. Just like in 1976, this national anniversary prompts us to consider what we make of the events of our collective pasts, just as we have to consider where we are now and where we intend to go. That sort of reflecting can start with something as simple as a visit to a museum.