Independence Day

When you write a song that becomes as iconic as “Independence Day”, it takes on a life of its own, which can feel very different from the life you intended for it. None of what happened to that song, and to me as a result of it, was in any way predictable. 25 years and two surreal encounters with Sean Hannity and Sarah Palin later, it really hasn’t felt much like my song in awhile. I haven’t played it live for at least two years, and before that only occasionally. When I did play it, I played it like a slow, sad piano ballad, not a heart-pumping anthem. And to be honest, I haven’t really wanted to play it for years. I wanted to retire it, not because I was ashamed or tired of it, but because it felt like something that wasn’t wholly mine anymore.

When your song is assigned an entire set of cultural values based on a false premise (it was never a song about America, it was always a song about a woman who was trying to save her own life and that of her child) it starts to feel tainted. It feels like words have been put in your mouth that you never said. I always said I was proud to have written the song (and I am) but the truth is I wanted to distance myself from it. And it took Zach Shultz to show me why. His essay on “Independence Day” brought me back full circle to the reason I wrote it. It made me proud. It made me feel like “Independence Day” was mine again.

The thought that my song would move a gay man in his 30s living in New York City to write,

“Today I choose to revel in the message of Martina McBride’s song, to recognize the political intent of Gretchen Peters, and to reclaim “Independence Day” as a call to independence from patriarchy, from a culture that would tell a woman, or any other person for that matter, to stand by an abusive partner at all costs. I choose to celebrate Independence Day as a day to freely criticize the policies of my country as it tears children away from their parents and locks them in cages; I celebrate Independence Day for the strong women who have escaped the oppressive strictures of unhealthy marriages and are choosing better lives; I celebrate the crowds of protesters who resisted the fascism of the current administration in a march across the Brooklyn Bridge last weekend; I celebrate the courage of the #MeToo movement and the overdue cultural reckoning it is bringing; I celebrate the independence to wake up every day and be our authentic selves.”

gives me a profound sense of wonder – wonder that something I wrote sitting on my bedroom floor in Nashville when Zach Shultz was a toddler has that kind of supernatural reach. Though many people have tried to twist it to suit their own motives, this particular song is stronger and more resilient than anyone, myself included, knew.

Songs are miraculous that way. They persist, they take on layers of meaning over the years, and sometimes they shed them, too. The people who love them keep them alive, they take courage and hope and inspiration from them, and the songs, if they are worthy, stand up to almost anything. I’m so grateful to Zach for writing this piece. I’m going to start playing my song again. Listen to the words.


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  1. Damn right! Always play that song and play it loud and proud! It has always been yours! Thiis gave me chills! Thank you both!

  2. We totally got the lyrics as you had meant them Liz and When CMT Europe showed the video there was no doubt. Liz and Jim

  3. Love the song but the problem is in the title & the people who have tried to use the song for Political gain. Its inspiring & uplifts me to fight for my own injustices in life, but i despise those who take it out of context. It takes away the enjoyment slightly but in the end you keep taking the royalties Gretchen because if you’ve got the talent to produce something so good then let ” the guilty pay” for abusing the song .

  4. I have always felt that song was about me and my 3 children and the man that made
    our house a living hell for 10 yrs. We finally got far away but the scars remain. He died this spring and hopefully the real healing will begin now. May Gretchen be blessed for hearing our prayers and pain.

  5. This makes me happy.
    I am deeply moved every time this song comes along on the Essential CD. It is so very important.

  6. That’s wonderful Gretchen! So nice to know the true, deepest meaning of your song has survived and re-emerged!!!

  7. I love this song Gretchen heard it first while holidaying in USA in on a country music channel. I didn’t know it had be written by you. I had read the lyrics right though. Please play it when you come to Belfast So looking forward to your show.

  8. I suspect that your feelings around this song maybe similar to those Bruce Springsteen felt at the appropriation of Born in the USA.

    Again an angry song about an individuals harsh life experience; again a song that many have not truely listened to and mistaken for some sort of nationalistic jingoism.

    All I can say is an artist or crafts person should never feel guilt at the misuse of something created in good spirit. A hammer can be made to build shelter for people but it can also be made to break the very same shelter. It does not devalue the hammer it only underlines the spirit and character the user.

    Vivid songwriting getting a story across to the listener in a way that they can empathise with the protagonist – it ticks all those boxes

  9. Play the song. Play the song as you intend in the moment. It’s a necessary portrait. May the paint never fully dry.

  10. August 14, 1996. That is my independence day. I celebrate it every year. I thank God every day for the courage to leave that day. I thank you for the song lyrics that I listened to every day as I played that song on a small, Missouri radio station. I knew I had to leave,somehow, someway, for myself and for my child. Please continue to perform that song. It means so much, especially to me and any other woman who has her own Independence Day.

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