The Fourth of July means one thing to my children: fireworks. Last week I wondered if perhaps I was underestimating their knowledge of American history. There was only one way to find out.

“Jacob,” I asked my 8-year-old over the weekend, “what’s the Fourth of July?”

He looked at me blankly. “Um, it’s celebrating when Columbus discovered America,” he said. He must have seen the disappointment on my face. “No. It’s about the war with the Indians, I mean Native Americans,” he fumbled. “Actually, I have no idea.”

My 6-year-old’s answer had promise. “I think there was a war and we won,” he said.

“Right,” I gushed. “We won our independence and that’s why the holiday is really called Independence Day. Who did we win independence from?” I asked.

“Ireland?” he ventured. Close. I guess because Independence Day falls during the summer, our children learn as much about the holiday as we, the parents, teach them — which in my case has been, clearly, not much.

More than knowing the details of American history — which I am confident will be taught in history classes to come — I am more concerned about their identification as Americans. Even in the current environment — where it is de rigueur to be embarrassed by our government and our country — I consider myself to be a proud American. I may not approve of this administration’s management of the war in Iraq, but that sentiment doesn’t hold a candle to the deep sense of gratitude I have to being born and raised in the greatest country on earth.

America was founded on the ideals of freedom and liberty. While it may not be true in each and every case, we aspire to the ideal that everyone is treated equally under the law. We are dedicated to meritocracy, we believe in the power of free markets, and if America has made mistakes both large and small in fighting the war on terror, well, that should come as no surprise.

How do I pass this patriotism to my children? I don’t know a single soldier who has fought in this war. For at least a year I haven’t seen a single tree donning a yellow ribbon. The ideals of freedom and liberty are just that — ideals. And they are difficult ones to explain, let alone be absorbed by elementary school-age children.

But conveying this patriotism feels especially pressing to me because my family spends part of the year living in a moderately anti-American country, South Africa. You cannot read the newspapers in South Africa, or watch the news, without reading or hearing several anti-American comments on a daily basis. Most South Africans seem to be up for a good America-bashing anytime.

“When you’re in South Africa, do you feel proud to be American?” I asked the boys.

“Yeah,” Jacob said unconvincingly. “I guess. It doesn’t really matter.”

Josh’s answer was much more interesting. “I don’t really feel American. I’m from New York,” he said.

I understand what he means. Children who are raised in New York feel proud of being from the greatest city on earth, not the greatest country on earth. The connection between the two is elusive to many adults I know, so I’m not surprised that children have trouble connecting the dots. But the success of New York City is the greatest testament to the ideals on which America was founded. More than 8 million people peacefully living in 322 square miles: different races, religions, socioeconomic levels, ideals, and dreams all coming together in one city.

Tomorrow there will be more than just a barbecue and fireworks for my children. I have been to the bookstore and there will be Independence Day 101 in the Berman household — along with some sparklers, hamburgers, hot dogs, corn, coleslaw, and s’mores.

sarasberman@aol.com