Growing up in the suburbs of Boston and Baltimore inevitably led to a falsely inflated perception of the status associated with being an American. The first time I, and probably most of the nation, realized that the U.S. was loathed by outsiders was on Sept. 11, 2001. I was with my family that day. We were vacationing in the Gettysburg, Virginia area and had planned to spend the day touring Jamestown. We had already visited several other historic sites earlier that week; attending former president’s houses, plantations, and historical villages was nearly an annual event. I remember panicked whispers that day as my parents realized that all five of us could be trapped on the other side of Washington D.C. if the district was attacked. I also remember that similar concerns were echoed silently across the entire east coast for years. The choice to attend D.C.’s Independence Day celebration became …