Tuesday, November 18, 2025
Every so often, something comes along that reminds us who we are at our core; and how we got here. Ken Burns’ new documentary, The Revolutionary War, did that for me as Episode 1 aired on Sunday. If you haven’t watched yet, it’s worth your time. Burns has a way of slowing things down just enough for the past to speak directly into the present.
A thread you might notice throughout the episode is the coupling of two concepts: Land and Liberty. For the colonists, those two concepts were inseparable. Land wasn’t just a parcel on a map; it represented autonomy and the ability to build a life on one’s own terms. Most had come from places where the idea of an ordinary person owning land was nearly impossible. Their chances for liberty were equally out of reach. Here, the chance to hold even a small piece of the world in your own name felt like both a promise and a responsibility. Land didn’t grant full control of one’s destiny, but it offered the agency to pursue it.
It’s striking to see how often that pairing appears in their debates and letters. Land offered stability. Liberty offered purpose. Together, they formed the foundation of the country they were struggling to create. You can feel the urgency in their choices; not just fighting for freedom, but for a future in which that freedom could be passed down, tended, and expanded.
If you’ve watched our podcast, you may have noticed the Declaration of Independence worked into the pattern of the woolen blanket on the couch behind me. It’s not a backdrop chosen for effect…rather as reminder. The ideals in that document weren’t abstract. They were meant to be practiced, defended, and handed forward. They still are.
That’s what Burns’ documentary brings into clear view: the idea that liberty is something we receive and something we shape. That we are part of an ongoing story; beneficiaries of an inheritance that was hard-won, imperfectly secured, and still unfolding.
Whenever you find the time to watch, I hope it prompts some of the same reflections it stirred in me. A chance to appreciate the ground we stand on (both literal and symbolic).
A reminder that the freedoms we hold are because generations before us believed that the mere possibility of securing those freedoms was worth the effort.
A reminder that the work of carrying those ideals forward is still ours.
Until Next Time,
Mary Schuster
Chief Knowledge Officer
October Research, LLC