A New Old Glory?

I am proud to be an American the way that I am proud to be a member of my family: With a clear-eyed appraisal of dreams, gifts, failings, sins, and limits. From both country and family I inherited or learned traits, history, language, and perspective, along with at least a few substantial bad habits and susceptibility to some diseases. As a nation and a people, the United States has done both righteous and evil things with its power. But I am not ashamed to be an American. My country’s culture is a significant part of who I am, and I can’t separate myself from that any more than I can make my big feet small. I love much of what our country stands for, including some of those things presumably most offensive to the terrorists who attacked us—our amazing and diverse cultural expression and freedom of speech and religion.

So why won’t I wave, wear, or stick on my bumper the American flag? My answer is not as ready as it would have been before Sept. 11. Then I had ceded the Stars and Stripes to those who might say things like "My country right or wrong." A country, like any other human institution, is always a mix of right and wrong, and I can’t stomach a patriotism that excludes the responsibility to critique, resist, and rebuild. And I had ceded the flag to those who had made it little more than a logo-component. I (dare I say it?) am fond of both fashion and shopping. But I will not pledge allegiance to Old Navy, Ralph Lauren, and Tommy Hilfiker and the American capitalism for which they stand.

But now I can respect that the flag also stands for grief-humbled unity; as a memorial for those who sacrificed all to save others; as a banner under which we, an immigrant nation, might gather together.