On the Amish: A Reflection on Cultural Pride as a TCK

My grandparents were Amish, and I’ve never taken great pride in that part of my heritage. Having never lived in the US, I wouldn’t consider myself very patriotic either. Recently, though, I found myself suddenly consumed with patriotism and beaming with pride for  “my people.” 

My grandparents left the Amish community at 18 years old and never returned. They farmed for a while before my grandfather attended seminary, after which they decided to become missionaries in West Germany. He died while I was young, and, growing up overseas, I never knew my grandmother very well, and still don’t. My mother had Amish relatives, but was never a part of the community herself. 

Growing up far away from my grandmother and her relatives, I never knew any of the Amish, nor did I speak Pennsylvania Dutch (the Amish dialect of German). My Amish background was more of a “fun fact” rather than a culture in which I took pride. 

Pride is a sin, and one that is often overlooked. In fact, even within Christian circles, we often encourage pride. Phrases such as “be proud of yourself,” and,  “it’s something to be proud of” seem to convince us that there is a healthy form of pride. Surely pride has some merit, if it’s encouraged!

Thus, I should further nuance my previous claim: pride in oneself is a sin. Boasting, which is an outward display of pride, is encouraged, provided one boasts in the Lord (2 Cor.10:17, Jer. 9:23-24). Likewise, satisfaction in one’s own work is also praiseworthy to God (Ecc. 5:18). Pride in oneself, however, is inherently selfish, and biblically, it implies self-sufficiency. It is the idea that I can exist without God, that I am proud of my own accomplishments without recognizing that God is the one who enabled them, and even my very own existence. Pride in oneself is a sin, but pride in God is praiseworthy. 

My “home state” of Pennsylvania was arguably the most important swing state in the 2024 Presidential election. While pollsters claimed the race would be on razor-thin margins, the state has many ultra-conservatives who often choose not to vote: the Amish. In the weeks and days leading up to November 5, they dominated the headlines as the potentially decisive group. 

To many, this was a comical idea. The Amish are often portrayed as strange and other-worldly, as they do not participate in mainstream American culture most of the time, so when their actions affect our election it seems really silly. In the end, Trump won Pennsylvania by far more than just the Amish vote, but the Amish turned out in droves to support him, and made headlines for it.

Although I am still too young to vote, I think I would’ve voted for Trump if I could. My specific reasons and caveats are beyond the scope of this article, but what is relevant is that I was happy to hear about Trump’s success. More specifically, the role of the Amish in his success. 

As much as it sets off my postmodernism alarms and causes my skin to crawl, I must admit that in this particular moment I “identified” with the Amish. When my coworkers showed me comical videos of horses and buggies with Trump 2024 plastered on the side of them, I jokingly responded that it was “my people” who decided the election. I advertised my American nationality and my Amish heritage with excitement to anyone who would listen. I was proud of my nation and my people.

Where does pride in one’s nation and culture fit into the notion that pride is a sin? Is it fair for me to “hop on the bandwagon” (or buggy) just because I’m pleased with the actions of a particular group to which I may have some slight cultural connection? I haven’t answered these questions quite yet, so I’ll leave them as an exercise to the reader, and hopefully pick up this topic in a later post. At the very least, I hope to have armed you, reader, with the necessary ideas to make up your own mind.