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The Fourth of July has come and gone—our energy exhausted, the day of our independence fully celebrated. President Donald Trump and, oh, (well, ). Independence Day is Americans’ one designated day out of 365 to celebrate the country’s liberation from tyranny—foreign taxation, a distant monarchy, maybe your dysfunctional marriage—by stuffing ourselves with hot dogs and sitting on porches and patios to watch fireworks. Indeed, on the Fourth, the pride that many people feel from being American is never more raucously on display, and this year’s festivities more than proved that, via colorful bands and awe-inspiring air shows, people love to revel in America’s image of greatness.

But what did America celebrate, really? The symbols and slogans of the holiday get the headlines, but they betray both the underlying truths of our moment, and take our eyes away from how the holiday gives us an opportunity to heal that divide.

We celebrated liberty—but people aren’t free. For years, migrant children have been and allegedly . Prisoners find themselves in , locked in a cycle of labor and imprisonment.

We celebrated justice—but Americans continue to face injustice. Ex-felons trying to turn themselves around , and votes continue to be manipulated in the wake of the . Even now, many Americans don’t see the criminal justice system .

We celebrated equality—but some find themselves treated unequally. disrupt conversations on workplace equality. Different groups, such as Muslim-Americans, . Even our role models on the soccer pitch have to

We celebrated security—but in the years after 9/11, . Shootings . And while our stock market is , Americans are finding themselves .

We celebrated unity—but what more accurate way to describe our nation right now if not divided? Uncertainty grows as . Hate groups find their voice , furthering their message of supposed alienation. Our border agents , indulging their disdain for others.

Let’s actually drill down on that last point. In our broader haste to marvel at spectacle, many people turned a blind eye to the vastness of the suffering afflicting others. Or perhaps even worse, we didn’t think about it at all—something that belies a lack of communal empathy.

Consider how, in the last month alone, our nation’s heroes in uniform—the people who immediately responded in the aftermath of 9/11—, yet pushed on anyway. Or think about how black Americans crowded into the House of Representatives to , proving that the wounds of slavery and racial injustice have hardly healed more than a century later.

There’s no question that people are aggrieved by the injustices they (rightfully) feel have yet to be meaningfully answered by their country, their America.

So how do we move forward?

During a recent conversation with Sharon Burke, Senior Advisor at ������Ƶ, Burke mentioned the importance of avoiding the perils of infighting. “People forget: We voted for our representatives, the administration,” she pointed out. “We chose to go with what we have now, and we’re seeing the consequences of being unaware.”

Put differently, voters, in various ways, elected the officials in charge now and, by extension, many of the conflicts that they’ve wrought on both policy and public discourse. Many citizens listened to the news eager to cast blame on someone else, soaked up tweets that affirmed their hatred of the “other.” Insults and put-downs, not reason, draw clicks and spur comments.

There’s no shortage of ideas for how to honor the spirit of Independence Day, despite the parading and posturing. , , : “reclaiming the Fourth” takes on many forms. But we’re only doing a disservice to our nation if we don’t learn to reclaim the core sense of togetherness—an America of many values, but with a central value of community.

After all, America didn’t liberate itself 243 years ago—Americans liberated one other.

Helping other Americans, , has long been at the core of what makes America great. It can be a seemingly inconsequential action, like stopping to chat with your neighbor who has different views from you, or devoting a few dollars to your local veterans’ charity. But either way, civil participation and compassionate patriotism build a healthier discourse for the nation, and prepare us for future adversity.

As Burke underscored in our interview, “the first and best line of defense against a terrorist or a hurricane is a stronger society in general. America is strong when its communities are.”

Contenting ourselves with food and fireworks before diving right back into political bloodsport achieves the exact opposite. When we cover up our divisions with diversions, polarization will continue to eat away at our institutions and progress. “Things are hollowing out,” Burke said, solemnly. “We can fill the cavity, or we cave in.”