Half-Mast

A flag stands for so much. History, culture, government, peoples, countries, ideas… It satisfies the universal human need for symbolism, a need to define the intangible with the concrete. It represents so much for so many people.

The flag, the star spangled banner, possibly symbolizes more than any other. It is truth, justice and the American way personified. It’s the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the National Anthem. It’s the 13 Colonies, and all those states. The red, white and blue are the colors of our forbearers and those who helped us gain our independence, and it represents the blood we shed against and with them. It is the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, to the freedom of speech, press, assembly, religion and thought. It is capitalism and liberalism, and the republic. It represents the new School of Hellas. It is imperialism and philanthropy, struggle and triumph, poverty and prosperity, war and peace. It stands for all those who died under it, and all those who died for it. It means so many things to so many people, at home and around the globe and it means so much to me.

There are few things more stirring than seeing the stars and stripes waving against a bright blue sky. It’s a sign of protection, a sign of power, and a sign of right. To me, it symbolizes everything that this country was meant to be, everything I know it can be, the nation’s true soul. I’m not talking about those banal displays of patriotism that you see every day: the cheap plastic flags flying from mini-van windows, the signs stuck in lawns, or the gaudy political bumper stickers. I never found any of that to be honest, or pure. The flag flying high upon a silver pole with a bronze orb perched atop, though, that is purity. Watching those colors flying overhead gives me hope for the future, and a pride at being part of something wonderful. I may not believe that everything the government has done or will do is right, but I believe in what this nation is meant to stand for. There is a difference between a patriot and a fanatic. A love for one’s country and jingoism are not the same thing, and there is not a fine line between them. It’s not the politics I follow, but the ideals espoused by Washington, Jefferson and Adams; it’s simply “We the People... “

Lately, though, old glory hasn’t been flying so high. Lately, it has been languishing at half-mast. Whether it’s for the death of a President, the loss of a soldier, or the mourning of a national tragedy, the flag has been laid low often these past few years. It shows the vulnerability of the flag, of the country itself, and the despair of the people in these times. I know that I for one cannot look at the flag at half mast without getting a hollow feeling in my stomach, without my head falling and my heart sinking. It’s an entirely different language that the flag is speaking in this condition, one of sorrow instead of pride. I believe that it is important to remember what the flag represents, and be affected by what it is telling us. We cannot get desensitized to the sight, because we must look back to remember and mourn, but we must also look forward and create change. We the People... together.