In 1892, an American socialist by the name of Francis Bellamy wrote the original Pledge of Allegiance. However, it was not written in an attempt to inspire nationalism by cold, tired soldiers striving for unity after the Civil War. You see, friends, in truly American style, the Pledge of Allegiance was written as an advertisement.
Here’s the story: according to historyofthe-pledge.com, in 1888, a magazine known as the Youth’s Companion began a campaign to sell American flags to public schools as a premium for their subscriptions. As part of this effort, it was decided that a “flag salute” would be published to increase the patriotic energy. This is one of the reasons I’ve never been entirely comfortable with taking part in this ritual.
Fast forward 120 years to my fourth grade classroom. As a school, we recited the pledge every Monday morning. My teacher, however, didn’t think that was enough. Under her rule we said it daily, rotating who stood at the front of the class to lead.
When my turn came along, I said no, having decided I didn’t see a particular need for it. I’m not sure what exactly triggered my 10-year-old self’s discomfort; I just remember my uneasiness with the mindlessness of the ritual taking hold. Unsurprisingly, this didn’t go over very well, and that memory is now filed under “things I’m going to pretend never happened.”
Here at South, that attitude has been more successful. The original pledge contained no mention of a god—that was added in 1954, when, amidst the red scare, a movement began to assert religion in our profession of national identity almost 200 years after our nation was established with the separation of church and state. As a result, we’re not required to say the pledge or its official affirmation of a god at school.
In my first period class, most students are seated, probably because we’re too lazy to stand up. I’m aware that not all students share my experience of being prodded into saying the pledge; it seems our choice is largely dependent on who we happen to have as a first period teacher. Regardless of its inconsistency, this flexibility can be appreciated.
The teachers who require students to participate are, I believe, missing the point. The existence of a statement of national unity isn’t a problem in itself, but making an affirmation of our freedom mandatory is inherently ironic. Blatant recitation is essentially meaningless, especially at young ages when we don’t even know the meaning of “indivisible.”
Although I’m not a fan of its implications, I want to be clear in saying that I am not necessarily opposed to patriotism as a concept. Liberty exists both because of and in order to protect the qualities that make a person and community interesting: skepticism, thoughtfulness, creativity, and inquiry. A practice that emphasizes blind loyalty and conformity does nothing to further those.
Whether or not you decide to participate in the pledge (and that’s totally up to you), I’m hopeful that we’ll all arrive at a critical, questioning sense of national identity rather than the one that’s been imposed upon us. After all, our freedom can only be preserved as long as people question whether it’s actually there.