There is a young and childlike, nostalgic, even primitive part of myself, that wants to wrap up in the American flag. I don’t have a message to write on a sign for the march against the rise of fascism, against the lack of oversight over Musk, and the abdication of American values. I usually love coming up with something to put on a sign. But it feels too tiring now.
Our country’s need for saving feels too primitive. My mind goes back to movies I saw as a child where someone was escaping a dangerous situation and, whether they were American or not, would see the American flag and know that they would be safe. Especially if they were American, of course, but also if they were from some other country. They would know that they be treated according to the rule of law. At least in the movies.
I was not raised in a time of false patriotism. I went to a public elementary school in Houston, Texas in the early 70s.
There were lots of kids who, according to their religion or whatever the family belief system was, maybe Jehovah Witness, maybe something else, didn’t believe in saying the Pledge of Allegiance and so they sat through that part. I do not remember there being any stigma attached to that. In fact, I think we learned it was a source of pride. We were free to make our own choices. In the 70s, the time of true idealism and hope for a better government had passed. Nixon resigned. Vietnam was over. It hadn’t gone well and the veterans we saw everywhere didn’t seem to be doing too well either.
People were adjusting and doing what they could to work hard. It was before the scourge of crack cocaine. School integration had just begun and in the schools I attended it was going pretty well.
Every fourth of July for about 10 years, my family would host a party in our backyard (on Watts St. near Rice Village) and invite all the neighbors and friends. It was very exciting for me because everybody came over to our house and we got to run wild up and down hot sidewalks and into the street, playing until very late while all the people we knew and loved, sat on our wooden backyard deck and laughed.
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