On July 4, 1776, the Second Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence.

The document declared the 13 colonies an independent nation from Great Britain. Though the Revolutionary War would drag on for seven more years, the Fourth of July is celebrated as the birth of the United States. Next year will mark its 250th anniversary.

Freedom — and who holds it — has looked different throughout U.S. history. NPR wanted to know how freedom is on your mind as the nation celebrates its independence. More than 300 readers and listeners wrote to us. Some celebrated the freedoms and ideals they believe the U.S. stands for, while others said they feel freedoms are being curtailed.

Here’s what some of them had to say:

Responses have been edited for length and clarity. 

Freedom means feeling safe

Matthew Favreau, 37, of North Haven, Conn.

Freedom is when something that used to scare you doesn’t scare you anymore. Most Americans live in fear: fear of falling into poverty; fear of getting sick, and not being able to afford care; fear of losing bodily autonomy; fear of corrupt politicians only out for themselves; fear of book burnings; fear of religious extremism; fear of immensely powerful corporations; fear of never being able to retire; fear of insatiable billionaires who will take until there is nothing left; fear of going back. We’ll all be freer when we have nothing left to fear.

Mark Milleker, 62, of Severna Park, Md.

We are a nation of immigrants woven together by countless journeys, dreams, and sacrifices. My grandmother was one of them. From every corner of the globe, people have come to these shores seeking freedom, opportunity, and a better life. For generations, the United States has stood as a beacon of hope — a place where diversity is not just tolerated, but celebrated; where the promise of peace and possibility draws hearts from every land. It is important to remember that, aside from the Indigenous peoples — the original stewards of this land — no single group can lay exclusive historical claim to what is now the United States. Every community, every culture, every language spoken here has added a unique thread to the fabric of our shared identity. Our strength lies not in sameness, but in our ability to come together across differences and build something greater than ourselves. This nation was never meant to be a fortress of exclusion, but a sanctuary of inclusion. Our ideals — liberty, justice, and equality — are not bound by borders or bloodlines. They are meant to be extended to all who believe in them, who work for them, and who dream of a better tomorrow. Let us never forget that our greatest legacy is not in walls built, but in bridges crossed. We are, and must always strive to be, a land where all people — regardless of where they come from — can find dignity, safety, and a place to call home. This is what freedom means to me.

Jennifer Shirley, 46, of Wildwood, Mo.

As a mother and someone who cares for children, safety for our children is what freedom feels like. Safe lives for children means freedom from gun violence and the freedom to choose from a variety of doctors and an expansive array of different plans to help care for their bodies through all different circumstances in their lives. Freedom is the right to an education without an agenda from opinions or religion, while allowing children to choose their own path with no fear. Freedom is a healthy and sustainable environment.

Paulita Peña-Urenda, 48, of Salem, Ore.

Freedom, to me, is not just the absence of chains. It’s the ability to live without fear and to walk in truth, even when systems are built to erase it. As a Lipan Apache woman, freedom means reclaiming the stories they tried to silence. It’s speaking the names of my ancestors and standing up for the generations who picked this land’s crops but were never allowed to own it. It’s protecting our children through the Indian Child Welfare Act, demanding justice for our missing and murdered Indigenous relatives, and refusing to let borders define the worth of Indigenous and undocumented lives. Freedom is economic dignity and knowing my labor, and the labor of my people, are not disposable. It’s walking into a state agency or a union hall and knowing that my voice carries weight, even if it makes others uncomfortable. It’s the right to unionize, to speak truth to power, and to rest. Freedom is spiritual, too. As an ordained minister, I know it’s about healing. It’s about being able to worship, mourn, protest, and organize without surveillance or suppression. To me, freedom isn’t a promise handed down by the powerful. It’s a practice we fight for every day in our communities, in the workplace, and in the halls of power that were never built for us. It’s rooted in land, language, labor, and love. And until all of us are free, rural, poor, Indigenous and undocumented — we are not done.

Freedom is the right to self-determination

Talya Dornbush, 48, of Carbondale, Colo. 

To me, freedom is the flexibility to explore the world and its people; discover the joys of my family and friends; find stillness and reflection in the wilderness; and the security of knowing that I will have a home to return to, food in my belly and the permission to follow a spiritual path of my choosing. When these opportunities are shared universally with my neighbors and community, without disruption from political corruption and greed, this is freedom, to me.

Sarah Vaughan, 35, of Kalispell, Mont.

Freedom means having the options and choices to pursue a life that aligns with one’s values and those that serve the good of the larger community. It means having the necessary support from our government to have equal opportunity to be healthy and hopefully thrive. It means not fearing options or choices due to the ruling of a minority.

Katie O’Malley, 35, of Parma Heights, Ohio

Sometimes I walk around my house and am overwhelmed with gratitude. All the silly tchotchkes, inherited furniture, books, art and two lovely pets contribute to this home that my husband and I (figuratively) built against all odds. We’re millennials and we have a lot of debt, but we were able to buy a little house. I am allowed to read and write and listen to what I want, and support whom I want. I can choose whether or not to subscribe to organized religion. We get to decide if and when we want children. Barring any more disasters, we might achieve financial freedom in the future. And for now, I’m grateful for the little freedoms we enjoy every day.

Jacquelyn Johnson, 69, of Sacramento, Calif.

As a Black person, freedom is a promise that holds out the hope of self-determination, educational opportunities, and full rights of citizenship. It is the freedom to express and celebrate Black culture, history, and identity. It is the ability to create and sustain strong Black communities, institutions, and networks. It is the right to vote, hold office, and participate in the political process without restrictions. Freedom hopes for the removal of systemic racism and its impact on all aspects of life. It hopes for the right to due process, equal protection under the law and freedom from fear of and reality of physical violence and exploitation. It is the freedom to associate, express oneself, and participate in society without facing discrimination or segregation.

Freedom is about our responsibility to others

JR Simons of Elyria, 59, Ohio

Freedom is a double-edged sword. One edge is “freedom to” do or pursue things such as happiness and one’s dreams; the other edge is “freedom from” things such as persecution and exploitation. To wield this sword comes with great responsibility: responsibility to be “free to act” without infringing upon anyone else’s “freedom from being acted upon.” This delicate balance must be maintained in order for people to live in true freedom.

Lars von Keitz, 63, of Chicago, Ill.

Personal freedom should always be coupled with the responsibility to fight for the freedoms of everyone else in our communities. We have an obligation to fight for all those not included in the Declaration of Independence so that they can meet their basic needs and pursue their dreams.

Oak Bryan, 54, of Inlet Beach, Fla.

Freedom is a very dangerous thing. Freedom means people won’t necessarily agree with you or like you … in fact, they may hate you! Freedom means having to make choices and accept consequences. Freedom means you may not get what you want, and maybe not even what you need. Freedom requires diligence, tenacity, and humility. For if you can endure, freedom means hope for a better tomorrow.

Ginamarie Bloomquist, 57, of Milliken, Colo.

Freedom is not free. It comes with a cost, and in many cases, that cost is high. It could be as severe as the cost of your life, but mostly it is as common as taking responsibility for your actions. If you do not take this responsibility and be accountable, you will soon sacrifice your freedom. We are often so concentrated on the “free” in freedom — as if that means you can do as you please, whenever you please, however you please — that we forget freedom will end unless you take all the other[s] around you into consideration.

True freedom means freedom for all

Laura Williams, 45, of Dearborn Heights, Mich.

Freedom is hard to gain and frightfully easy to lose. It’s not being afraid to exercise your rights. It’s the ability to advance, regardless of background or personal obstacles. Freedom uplifts. It encourages us to soar, to not remain bound at the starting line. It’s enacting justice fairly and truly seeing all citizens as equal. More importantly, it’s the peace that comes when you know society also respects these norms. Freedom is merely a nebulous concept if it isn’t applied to all.

Ashlee Campbell, 36, of Danville, Vt.

Freedom is a word that, for as long as I can remember, has felt weaponized. It has been spun into an angry rhetoric, fanning the flames underneath our most adamant self-proclaimed patriots. It has become a threat, dripping with vitriol and littering the comments on message boards and social media. Hearing the word “freedom” creates a visceral reaction in me, as I fear its meaning has been lost somewhere in our nearly 250 years as a nation. Yet, despite the way I feel towards the word in its current use, I yearn for it in its most basic definition: the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint. However, I feel there needs to be an addendum to the word, as freedom should not infringe on the rights of someone else. So perhaps, freedom for me is the power to do or think what I want without hindrance and without infringing the rights of anyone else. Freedom that limits others isn’t freedom; it’s a regulation, and freedom cannot be regulated. Freedom is or it is not. It is for all of us.

Rosee Thompson, 28, of Madison, Ala.

My freedom (as described by my high school history and government teacher) ends where another person’s begins. This saying — my freedom ends where yours begins — has stuck with me. Because when I think about freedom for everyone in a country, it makes sense practically that you can’t just think about yourself. I notice that certain people seem to focus solely on their personal freedom as if everyone else’s freedom is a threat. It honestly alarms me. If you just lobby for your own freedom, you’re not lobbying for freedom — you’re lobbying for yourself, and you’re missing the entire point.

Brett Shufelt, 36, of Hamburg, N.Y.

Maybe the most important feature of actual freedom is the ability to make honest and fair criticism of your country, something which feels more and more taboo. A free nation would readily grapple with the difficult parts of its history. The deeper we go down the rugged individualism rabbit hole, it seems the less free we actually are. I feel incredibly frustrated about the lack of nuance with which we talk about freedom. The prevailing opinion seems to be that freedom means doing whatever you want, regardless of the impact on others. The freedom I long for is one of collective support and care within communities.

Joseph Connolly, 77, of Brunswick, Maine

Americans need to be reminded that we need to more consistently learn to rely on each other (something which means surrendering at least a portion of autonomy for our mutual benefit) or we will lose our independence. As Benjamin Franklin was reputed to have said, we must all hang together or we shall all hang separately. These days, we seem to concentrate on the words toward the beginning of the Declaration of Independence: the ones that promise us rights. But I wonder if the people who wrote the Declaration concentrated more on the words toward the end of it, which state that they “mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.” In short, they understood they needed each other in order to become truly independent.

Obed Manuel edited this story.