Enough With The Flag Waving

I’m sitting here watching the Olympic Women’s Soccer team as they play Zambia, and I want the US team to win, but not in a flag-wavy way.

In a human way.

I’m not a flag-waving American. I am just a human who happened to be born in the US. 

Don’t get me wrong; there are undisputed advantages to having been born here, and I feel lucky.

But I’m looking at these Zambian soccer players, for instance, and wondering what their training facilities look like and how much Zambia funds them. I really don’t know. Maybe a lot, but I kind of doubt it.

I suspect the United States team’s facilities are probably more than decent. The fact that we are up three goals probably has something to do with that. That’s why when the US team scored that third goal, it didn’t feel like a flag-wavy moment for me. It felt like a just-sit-there-and-watch-the-game moment because these teams aren’t evenly matched. 

They’re just humans playing a game—world citizens in a world that isn’t even close to having equal resources and opportunities.

To wave a flag in someone’s face when you know this, seems gross.

The Olympics officially start tomorrow, and for the next two weeks, there will be a lot of flag-waving. All the athletes are there competing for their country, not a team, not a city, not a league, not a franchise—their country. I wonder what they think of when they hear their national anthem, what they feel as they run around with their flag tied at their neck like a cape. Do they think of their family, friends, neighborhood, coaches, and training? Do they think of their political leaders and their form of government? When they win, do they feel it as a personal triumph or a national one? 

I wonder what they think of when they see their flag.

Do the Americans envision D.C.? The French, Paris? The Germans, Berlin?

Flags are symbols, as are crosses, five-pointed stars, and dollar signs. When I see the American flag, I probably don’t see what you see or feel what you feel. Same with a cross. 

When I see a flag, I think of its country’s political system more than its purple mountains majesty. I wish the American flag made me think of Yosemite instead of January 6^th and Trump. But it doesn’t. I feel weird flying the flag in front of my house for fear people will think I’m a Trump supporter. Especially where I live.

But on the rare occasions when G does put the flag out (Memorial Day, Fourth of July), all I hope to signal to the cars whizzing by is Independence. To me, the flag symbolizes my desire to live free of dictators, kings, or Big Brother. It also signals that I will stand for no government coercion or meddling in my life, thank you very much. 

This week, in addition to the Olympics, Kamala Harris has now replaced Joe Biden on the Democratic ticket, and I am happy about that, but not in a flag-wavy way. In a human way. She has no aspirations to be a dictator and no interest in my menstrual cycle. 

Because the flag means so many different things to different people, I don’t feel I can’t pledge my allegiance to it unless we can all agree on what it stands for. Remember Trump kissing and slobbering all over the flag? 

What the hell was that all about? The flag as lover? What??

So, until I’m sure that we’re all on the same page about the flag, there will be no flag-waving here.