“USA! USA! USA!”

Some may have just read that chant with less enthusiasm and pride than in previous Olympics.

It can be difficult for many American sports fans to shout or think it when the country is being led by an administration that authorizes violent immigration raids and encourages a toxic political culture. But there is good reason for spectators to push past those feelings.

Consider freestyle skier Hunter Hess, who said last week that the American flag on his chest doesn’t mean he represents “everything that’s going on in the U.S.” The remark sparked a predictable online backlash, capped by President Donald Trump calling him “a real loser.”

What the president may have hoped would become a divisive moment is instead an opportunity to remember that when American athletes of all backgrounds speak their minds and carve their own paths, they aren’t rejecting the USA on their jerseys. They’re living up to its highest ideals, and giving fans of all political persuasions a cause to cheer.

It’s the kind of stubborn independence that has always been a hallmark of America’s Olympic program. Unlike most other countries, the federal government provides no direct funding for Olympic athletes or their sports. Instead, the United States Olympic and Paralympic Committee (USOPC) relies upon private donations, sponsorships, and rights revenue.

Other countries often have a Ministry of Sports that employs athletes as full-time representatives of the state, but the selection and development of Team USA are left to the nonprofit USOPC.

Financial and political independence are critical. It ensures athletes rise due to merit, not political favor. And it leaves competitors free from forced displays of political loyalty.

The plight faced by Russian and Chinese athletes offers some perspective. They’re often funded from childhood and have little choice but to pose for propaganda photos with political leaders on demand, regardless of whether they agree with them. To speak out is to risk career and personal safety.

By contrast, American athletes are free to do what their Chinese and Russian competitors can’t. They can criticize policies they dislike and decline White House visits if they choose.

Most importantly, they get to define the kind of America they want to represent. Cross-country skier Jessie Diggins, who grew up outside of Minneapolis, recently did that on Instagram. “I’m racing for an American people who stand for love, for acceptance, for compassion, honesty and respect for others.”

That’s not disloyalty. That’s the patriotic essence of being an American, and it’s worth celebrating.

If independence is part one of America’s Olympic story, hustle is part two.

Becoming an Olympian requires significant money and time. And without state funding, the USOPC, sports federations, and athletes have to become experts at raising it and using it efficiently.

That’s not how many sports fans envision medal contenders preparing for the global stage. But the grind should be familiar (minus the medals) to any American who works extra hours while trying to balance family life.

This year, for example, Team USA has competitors who raise money via GoFundMe and serve as paid online influencers. They work part- and full-time jobs, raise their kids, lean on partners and still manage to find the time to pursue a spot on the podium.

It’s certainly not ideal for athletes and coaches who value every extra moment in the weight room, the training simulator, or on the course. I’ve listened to U.S. Olympic coaches and officials ponder the champions they could produce if they had some of the government funding available in other countries.

But rather than whine publicly (everyone is entitled to a private moment), they tough it out and strive to win. What’s more American than that?

If you’re looking for an additional reason to cheer, there’s the matter of who is toughing it out. Historically, the athletes competing in winter sports have been White, affluent, and from a limited number of geographic regions. But that’s beginning to change, thanks to grassroots efforts by sports and the USOPC to open doors to overlooked talent across America.

It seems to be working. Prior to the Games’ opening, the Associated Press reported that the number of Black and Asian athletes on the 2026 edition of Team USA likely exceed the 8% who represented the country in 2022.

Even without a precise accounting, the visibility of that change is shining through. Erin Jackson, a Black gold medal-winning speed skater, was a flag bearer at the opening ceremonies; Asian-Americans such as Chloe Kim are strongly represented across skating and snowboarding; and openly queer athletes are playing starring roles in several sports, including women’s hockey, where Hilary Knight captains the team.

These diverse athletes broaden what it means to have national pride. No, we’re not all going to agree on politics. And it’s understandable that some American sports fans will feel uncomfortable seeing and hearing members of Team USA criticize the country on the world's biggest stage.

But it’s worth recalling the place from which that criticism emanates. Nobody puts on a USA jersey because they hate or disparage it, including Hess.

Days after being targeted by Trump, the skier took to social media with a simple message: “I love my country.”He and others may show it differently than the president would like. But what better way to express national pride than to challenge the country to be better?

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This column reflects the personal views of the author and does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.

Adam Minter is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist covering the business of sports. He is the author, most recently, of “Secondhand: Travels in the New Global Garage Sale."

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