Engraving by W.D. Cooper depicting the Boston Tea Party of 1773. (Creative Common/Wikipedia)

AS AMERICA COMMEMORATES the 250th anniversary of its Independence, I find myself reflecting with both measured pride and deep unease. The American experiment is a remarkable milestone worthy of celebration, but it is also an opportunity for honest self-examination.

Here in Massachusetts, this anniversary carries special meaning. The American Revolution began on our streets. The Boston Tea Party, the cries of “no taxation without representation,” the battles of Lexington and Concord, and the courage displayed at Bunker Hill helped ignite a movement that changed the course of history.

Massachusetts gave birth to the revolutionary idea that freedom, liberty, and self-government were worth fighting for. That history should inspire us, not simply to celebrate what happened 250 years ago but to ask whether we are living up to those ideals today.

Our nation’s motto, E pluribus Unum – “Out of many, one” — remains one of the most powerful aspirations ever expressed. Yet 250 years after its founding, America continues to struggle with divisions rooted in race, religion, ethnicity, language, national origin, and identity.

Black Americans have been part of this nation’s story since 1619, and Indigenous people long long before that, yet too many people still experience barriers that prevent them from fully sharing in the promise of the American dream.

America has never fully lived up to its highest ideals. But loving this country does not require pretending it is perfect. Real patriotism means loving America enough to tell the truth about its history, learn from it, and work relentlessly to build a better future.

We cannot honestly call ourselves a great nation while refusing to fully acknowledge the horrors of slavery, the dispossession of indigenous native peoples, and the many forms of discrimination and inequality that have scarred generations of Americans. Erasing history does not eliminate it and does not heal it. Ignoring injustice does not strengthen democracy. Healing begins with truth, accountability, and a shared commitment to do better.

The framers of our Constitution understood this. They did not claim to have created a perfect nation. Instead, they challenged future generations to form “a more perfect Union.” Those words recognize that democracy is never finished. It is an ongoing experiment requiring courage, humility, and moral leadership.

Whenever I hear the phrase “Make America Great Again,” I find myself asking a different question: great for whom? America cannot truly be great until greatness belongs to everyone, not only those who look alike, worship alike, love alike, or come from similar backgrounds. Greatness is measured not by whom we exclude, but by whom we embrace. It is measured by justice, opportunity, equal dignity, acceptance, and the belief that every person is created equal.

Massachusetts has often led the nation during its most consequential moments. We were among the first to challenge tyranny. We became a center of the abolitionist movement. We helped advance public education, health care innovation, scientific discovery, and marriage equality. Time and again this Commonwealth has demonstrated that progress begins when people are willing to challenge the status quo.

Massachusetts can help lead America once again. Boston can become the place where we begin building a more perfect Union and a more united nation, one grounded not in fear, but in the audacity of hope, not in division but in common purpose with a common vision.

At a time when political rhetoric too often encourages Americans to turn against one another, Massachusetts can choose a different path and, to quote former Massachusetts governor Deval Patrick, “turn to each other.” We can model what respectful civil disagreement looks like. We can demonstrate that diversity is not weakness, but one of our greatest competitive advantages. We can prove that people from different cultural backgrounds, religions, political parties, cultures, sexual orientations, and life experiences can work together in pursuit of the common good.

Instead of fearing our differences, perhaps we should ask ourselves harder questions about why we are threatened by someone’s skin color, accent, religion, or whom they love? How does another person’s humanity diminish our own? It doesn’t.

Our energy would be far better spent confronting the challenges that truly demand our attention: children going to bed hungry, veterans struggling with PTSD, seniors choosing between food and medicine, families unable to afford housing and childcare, young people unable to live on their own and leaving college and university with tremendous debt, and urban and rural communities alike searching for economic opportunity. Those are the battles worthy of a great nation.

Far too often there are many in America who quote scripture without living it. The Bible calls on us to “love your neighbor as yourself,” “to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God.” Those timeless principles transcend politics. They speak to the character of a nation.

As we begin America’s next 250 years, let Massachusetts once again lead by example. Let the Commonwealth that helped launch the American experiment be the state to help renew its promise. Let Boston become known not only as the birthplace of the American Revolution but the birthplace of its next great renewal — rooted in truth, justice, inclusion, and shared humanity.

That would be a legacy worthy of our history. And that would an American truly worthy of its promise and greatness.

Colette A.M. Phillips is president and CEO of Colette Phillips Communications, Inc., a communications and inclusion-focused consulting firm, founder of Get Konnected!, and the author of “The Includers: The 7 Traits of Culturally Savvy Anti-Racist Leaders.” She is a member of the CommonWealth Beacon editorial advisory board.