“Y’all ever heard of Washington Crossing the Delaware?”
I tended to wrap up most of my DC2DQ tour stops around the Texas 23rd the same way. Not with red-meat rhetoric to enrage the crowd before a quick escape, like some politicians. But with a story about my love for a 171-year-old painting, and what it meant to me and our country.
At each stop at local Dairy Queens around my district for the annual DC2DQ, I’d give my prepared remarks, take questions, then, as we were digging into the final remains of our Blizzards and dipped cones, I’d close with a story.
Over the twirling hum of the soft-serve machine and the faint ding outside as cars pulled up to the drive-through window, I would tell the crowd about Washington Crossing the Delaware.
Most people have seen images of the painting, and almost everybody at my DC2DQs nodded when I mentioned it. It depicts George Washington standing in the bow of a small boat, erect and proud, looking as if he is invincible. He’s in full battle dress, and the icy Delaware River rages around him while his crew strains to make progress to shore.
I first encountered the painting in Kevin McCarthy’s office when he was House Majority Leader, I’d tell the crowds. A version of the painting, and there are several, was on display in Kevin’s conference room at the U.S. Capitol. Whenever I had meetings there, my eyes would turn to it. Amid ridiculous arguments and unnecessary fights in Congress, this painting reminded me about not only who we are as Americans, but who we could be.
The painting commemorates a crucial moment in the War of Independence. General Washington is crossing the Delaware River on Christmas Eve in 1776, the night before his first major victory against the British. In the wake of some humiliating defeats, Washington had ordered thousands of his troops to covertly cross the freezing Delaware River under cover of darkness. The next morning, in Trenton, New Jersey, his troops launched a surprise attack on the Hessians—German troops hired by the British—bringing a much-needed morale boost to the ragtag Continental Army.
I’d always surprise my constituents by mentioning that there are a number of historical inaccuracies in the work of art. The Delaware River doesn’t actually look the way it’s portrayed. The flag is from a later time period, the boat is way too small for the number of people actually inside, and George Washington had never won a battle before this point.
Plus, it’s painted by a German, Emanuel Leutze, to inspire Germans after the 1848 revolutions throughout Europe, which were a wave of rebellions against European monarchies.
That tended to get some raised eyebrows. A German painted a scene of one of America’s greatest moments?
Then I’d point out who is in General Washington’s boat. People of different backgrounds, races, and ethnicities. There’s a couple of farmers in there. A French dude. A German guy. A woman. A Native American and a Black man are also aboard.
“In total,” I’d say, “you can see twelve people and a thirteenth hand.”
For some reason, that mention of the thirteenth hand always got chuckles.
I would explain how when you first look at the painting, you assume, of course, that people fighting on behalf of inalienable rights were obviously going to win. But when you pause and think about what they were trying to accomplish, and consider the difficulties and obstacles these Revolutionaries faced, you come to realize how improbable their victory actually was.
“The reason I love this painting is not because it is a depiction of an important historical point in our history,” I told them. “I love it because when Leutze painted it nearly 175 years ago, it was a message to future generations—that the way a nation can achieve the improbable is to recognize we are all rowing toward an uncertain future in a little boat together.”
Leutze’s masterpiece shows how we are a pragmatic people. George Washington probably would have liked more men, ammunition, and preparation. But he had to achieve his objective based on the situation he was in right then, and with the resources he had at the time.
And just like George Washington and the Continental Army, we as individuals, and our leaders in government, must try to be our best selves within the context of where we are right now with the resources we have in front of us. We must endeavor to achieve what is achievable within the context of doing what’s best for the most people possible.
Yet no problem is too hard when we understand that way more unites us than divides us. We are all united in our founding ideal that all people are created equal. Folks from all over the world know that America is still based on this ideal. Our values have made America the greatest nation to have ever been built on this Earth, and our ideals have served as beacons of hope to so many.
Since our founding, we have defied convention and raised expectations. At our core, we’re an idealistic people, and that term can mean different things to different people, especially to those viewing our nation from the outside. Some consider idealism to be too naive, too unpractical to work in today’s world. Yet for those of us who are part of this struggle to keep this century the American Century, idealism is about aspiring to achieve those noble values enshrined in our foundational documents.
While we haven’t always lived up to our principles, we must always continue to try. Our actions as a government, our actions as a nation, and our actions as individuals must strive to reflect these self-evident truths that are the foundation of our country.
As I closed out the DC2DQ stops and thanked everyone for coming, I’d think about my past. Some of my childhood experiences, and certainly the obstacles my parents faced in a society that wouldn’t accept my dad’s race, could have led me to question my country’s principles. But my parents’ faith in this grand experiment of America never wavered, and their hopes for our family sustained my brother, sister, and me. Overseas, I saw my fellow countrymen make tremendous sacrifices to perform their sacred obligation to our forebearers who paid the ultimate price to protect our country.
And when I served in Congress, my constituents, like those at DC2DQ who were shaking my hand as they filed out—ranchers in dusty cowboy boots, office workers in khakis, and cashiers from the local Walmart—taught me important lessons. Struggle and hope go hand in hand.
Our generation-defining challenges as a nation don’t have to daunt us. In our little boat called America, we can work together to rise to these challenges, the same way previous generations for close to 250 years rose to theirs. That is our shared responsibility as a nation.
As I said in the opening and have detailed throughout this book, it’s time for an American Reboot. We all know this undertaking won’t be easy, and there are plenty of challenges and obstacles ahead. We can’t flinch from our destiny. We should embrace it together.