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Old Glory has Something He Wants to Say  
By – Roger White
The dawn’s first sunlight crests over the eastern horizon.  A midnight dark sky leisurely changes tinctures: blue becomes purple, bright azure and soft yellow create a pastel veneer across the skyline.  The bellies of plumose clouds reflect the hues and turn the sky into a watercolor image of quiet beauty.  Shimmering white contrails streak in every direction, revealing that as we slept America was busy at work and travel and play.  As the sun climbs upward, its light expands over the Earth’s countenance.  A gentle breeze drifts west to east.  It is early dawn in the heartland.  Commuters race to home, school and work.  Some take a fleeting glance at the flag slowly ruffling in the breeze but drive past preoccupied with the coming day.  Today is Flag Day, they will pay their homage later at a ceremony in its honor.     
Old Glory rises, shakes off the last of night, unfurls himself proud and strong for all to see, and begins his special day of recognition across America.  But this year – on this occasion, He will give his beloved people a stern commentary about the state of the nation for which he stands.
With a crisp, deliberate snap in His tone, Old Gory begins to speak:  Stand obediently beneath me now.  Look up at me and show some respect.  Take off that silly cap.   Toss aside your hubris masquerading as patriotism.  Listen to the ruffling of my stars and stripes, you will hear me speak.  Do not interrupt. 
Since the of summer of 1777, I have been your symbol of all this great nation stands for.  You gave me origin.  You asked me to represent you at home and abroad, in strife and war, peace and solidarity, and I gratefully accepted.  
It was the flash of bombs that proved to Francis Scott Key I stood proudly while an invading enemy attacked our seat of government.  I represented your just cause when a great part of America wanted to leave behind my stars and stripes for a different flag.  I leaned broken above blood-stained ground, only to again stand straight and proud when you won the battles of Normandy and Iwo Jima.  Since then, I went to war with you several times even when you were wrong.   
You take pride in hoisting me at sporting events at home and on the world stage.  You pay tribute to me and salute me on national holidays and funerals.  You fly me above your bases, schools, office buildings, in your front yards.  You speak glowingly about me in your campaign speeches.  But you dishonor me with your contempt, your prejudice, your conduct.  Have you even once read the inscription at the feet of my dear friend, Lady Liberty?
  “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.  The wretched refuse of you teeming shores.  Send these, the homeless, the tempest-tossed to me.  I lift my lamp beside the golden door”.  Lady Liberty speaks those words, I represent those words, you are supposed to live by those words, but you do not. 
 I did not grant you permission to enslave a race of people.  I did not give you my blessing to discriminate against anyone because of their race, color or creed.  I did not bestow on you the right to hail the flag as your property.  I belong to all people of this country, I do not belong to a demographic, a sect or a cult.  
You grow angry when people young and old, black, brown, yellow or red, kneel before me during the National Anthem, burn me in effigy in the streets, desecrate my visage.  Do you not understand?  It is not me with whom they are angry – it is you.  They protest against you, your prejudice, your discrimination, your hatred.   You take personally what they do to me because you have the selfish audacity to believe I belong to you.  You fly me upside down in your front yard when it is not our country that is under duress – it is your moral principle that is under duress.     
Because of you, I have I lost my symbolism and true meaning to many of the people of this country, and yes, you are among those people. You do not realize it, but you too protest – you protest granting liberty, freedom and justice for Americans not of your race, color and creed, you do not consider that I represent those people as well.  Let me remind you of this; the protesters, immigrants and asylum seekers are among the huddled masses yearning to breathe free – just as your ancestors once were counted among the tired and poor, the wretched refuse that came to America’s teeming shores.  You are all one in the same to me.  In a field of amber waves of grain, no one stalk stands taller than any other.  Now go, and be better for your sake, and the sake of America.  I pray I will not have to repeat my words.    
Beneath the flag – not a word was spoken.  With heads bent, humbled and pensive - men and women slowly sauntered back to the remains of the day.
As with every day, this day ended with a solemn tribute to Old Glory; the ceremony with bugle and salute at 5:00 pm.  Midnight blue spangled with twinkling stars, a waxing moon and bright spotlight show that even in the dark of night this distinguished and venerable symbol of a country bewildered by its self-inflicted identity crisis will remain committed to the American experiment. 
 The breeze lessens, Old Glory rests his weary head and dreams of a better tomorrow in America.
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