patriotism.
(what else?)
My dad and I were in the car earlier this morning, driving home from the tag office, when I noticed something I would generally scorn. It was one of those houses that gets a little Independence Day crazy and sticks like, 47 of those little American flags in their front lawn. I rolled my eyes internally and made some snide remark about my deep dislike for such gaudy displays of patriotism. This caught my father's attention. Unwittingly, I had stepped into a clash of opinion with Chris Morgan, philosophy major and owner of 45 years of experience on earth. This is something I do not recommend trying unless you've studied and taken your vitamins for the day. Throw in an extra half hour to your morning prayer time, and you might have a fighting chance.
I, however, had done none of these things. I had never even vocalized my reasons for such a strong abhorrence to the proud displaying of our country's colors. I wasn't even sure why I felt the way I felt, I just knew that I felt that way. So, as my father began to press back with great and overwhelming force of opinion, I found my voice.
Suddenly, I realized that I believe that America wears her flag the way the Church wears its steeple. The stars and stripes of our emblem are made to represent what America herself was made to represent: beauty, truth, and, of course, freedom. We march around in a pageant-like display of the colors, all the while forgetting what exactly they stand for. So, while the church struggles to remember that it is the people inside of the church building that hold significance, America should labor to see freedom at its greatest depth, not to see the colors of our flag on every lawn.
I didn't come to exact conclusions, mind you. My father made some statements that I still need to untangle inside my mind. But just being pressed on the issue, forced to vocalize my thoughts, made me see the strong places and the crumbling pieces of the things I believe.
Yes, there is a lot of pageantry celebrating the colors instead of the concepts of America. But are we not also fighting for freedom in other places in the world? And if we are, am I even an active voice in that battle?
I call myself a patriot because I believe in truth, beauty, and freedom. I believe in love above all else, and justice for the oppressed. But if I do not illuminate those things, if I do not make my life a flag bearing the colors of what I believe in, then I am not a patriot at all. I'm just a house with a lot of nice decorations.
Anyway. As usual, it's not all worked out in my head. But I am in a better frame of mind on the topic than I was previous to the conversation with my dad, if only because now I'm actually thinking about it. If I'm not thinking about it, I'm no better than the people I accuse of ignorance, laziness, or apathy. And, if I am thinking about it but not letting it affect my beliefs, the result is the same.
So. All of that said... Happy fourth of July! Ha.
My family went to go see fireworks in downtown Jefferson on Saturday night. As always, it was endearing, entertaining, and relatively exhilarating. Anytime you are watching fireworks and getting scared that the trees a few yards away from you might spontaneously combust, things get interesting. I always forget how much I like watching fireworks until the fourth of July rolls around. My family drags me out into the fierce humidity, makes camp in a colony of infuriated fire ants, and tries to squint past the brightness of the streetlights to see some exploding colors sail up into the sky, but! In the end it is so worth it. We were so close that the biggest explosions made you feel like a fish about to be caught up in an enormous net of spark and flame. At times, it was breathtaking.
Which is probably not an adjective one would commonly associate with downtown Jefferson like, at all.
Anyway. Mom is going to pick me up and we are going to drive around in my Beautiful Buick, and go out to lunch.
Oh! That reminds me.
The Beautiful Buick has a name!
We shall call her,
Marilyn.
She's american, she's confident, and she's beautiful.
And, according to Kevin Queen, she's got gusto.
So, that's all.
As always, anyone can comment.
And once again,
leave your email addresses if you want to be on the email list.:)
5 comments:
haha, patriotism was not the first thing that came to mind when I saw that picture, lol. But it did remind me of the day my brother came home from Iraq. Though I must say, their kiss was better =)
i know the feeling. i wish i could describe what fireworks made me feel. its like a 3d frameshot from Fantasia.
and it swallows you whole, and spits you back out before you even notice whats happening.
all you have left is your pounding heart.
hannahs blogs make me wonder what shes writing about too. i love you, and her.
<3
Annie, I will start by an appology because I am going to take up a lot of space with this comment. I have 30 min to gather a write what I want to say prior to me going out on my mission today so here we go...
Our flag is a symbol of our nation as the cross is to the church, yes.
Our flag has 13 strips (7 red and 6 white) a blue panel in the upper left hand corner with 50 stars in it. The red stands for Hardiness and Valor, and the blood that it cost to keep it flying. The white, Purity and Innocence. The blue in the panel, Vigilance, Perseverance and Justice. Then the 50 stars which are of course our 50 states. When seen through the eyes of Americans it is beautiful, and yes when there are a million in ones yard it can be a bit tacky. : ) When viewed through the eyes of Veterans who have lost friends and know first hand of the cost to keep it flying...it is a beutiful reminder. I will not lie to you Annie, when I was younger I thought nothing of putting my right hand over my heart during the National Anthem or Pledge of Alligence. I have now served in 3 combat tours, and in the past 2 1/2 years have lost 18 close friends to combat. I lost one of my best friends 3 days after my birthday (May 25th,2007) to a roadside bomb.
When I hear the Pledge, or sing the National Anthem my eyes tear up. I know that we live in a nation of freedom because of my 18 close friends and men like them.
I understand what you mean when you talk about the "patriotism craze" and how it can look all over town, but just remember...sometimes it feels so good to come home from War and see a million flags in some strangers yard or a hundred thousand yellow ribbons in their bushes.
These sites to the average American can seem tacky when viewed all of the time, but comforting to some who have fought for those same colors. Annie, to me those colors mean a lot more, but not near as much as when I come home to see the steples of churches in every major neighborhood in the Georgia. Especially, when I have spent 3 years of my life in countries that if they could would cut my throat because I believe in what those churches represent.
I liked the posting Annie, I really did. I have pictures of me coming home from Iraq and Afganistan with my Parents and Sisters giving me huge hugs. Take Care, keep writing, and Happy 4th of July!
Oh and visit and comment on my blog sometime! : )
http://www.bennypgraham.blogspot.com
Benny
I wish my arguments with my father would have such a productive impact on my thinking. quite the opposite, for me. I liked this post. and goodness now I wish I had gone to the fireworks so that I could have seen you! It has been a long, long time. And I adore your car's new title. It's perfect.
And Annie, you and your cousin inspired me to make a blog, finally.
dearest annie morning, traveler of the farthest and most majectic galaxies, and queen of jackson county and other far away firefly places,
i like you back. so very much. its funny because it was about you and sam. reading back on that now i realize that it doesnt even scratch the surface of what i wanted to convey.
i hope that the northern carolinas hug you close, and bring you home safe.
soon enough, jessica.
Post a Comment