I stopped reciting the pledge of allegiance in Mr. Burger’s first period 8th grade Tech Ed class. You know, Tech Ed, the class for boys. Home Economics was for girls. Except I wasn’t interested in learning how to cook or sew, I wanted to carve a pineapple lamp from wood and solder a metal pencil box and fix broken gadgets & gizmos a plenty, whozits and whatsitz galore. A tinkerer’s dream. The majority of my classmates were boys. My parents were the polar opposite of whatever helicopter parents are, I got to choose my electives no questions. They took little interest in our lives as long as we lived within the firmly drawn lines of disciplined boundaries. An upbringing I fondly look back upon – feral latchkey kids with constructive guardrails. Might not work for all, but it worked for us.

Eighth grade was a big year for me, according to my memory kept fresh by almost daily journals. My friend circle began to shift away from those whom I had spent my elementary schools days, to new faces and ideas held by kids from the other small town elementary schools, all of us eager to explore our adolescence. It was the first time I realized where and how you grew up dictated your future, your opportunities. I floated amongst different groups, searching for those with the same internal wiring tugging at me, never really belonging anywhere, appreciating the experiment of it all. Variety has always been my chosen spice.

I started paying attention to the world around me, advancing from simply documenting life to analyzing my place in it. What did it all mean?

One morning I failed to rise to state my allegiance to the flag in unison with my classmates. Tingles rolled over my body, white noise ears filled my ears, my first public act of defiance. Punishment for my disobedience? Reciting it solo in front of the classroom. I eventually acquiesced, as I felt my point had been made. Mr. Burger waited until after class to question my motives. 

Probably should note this was the same year I was elbow deep in researching the Holocaust in my AP History class. Digesting the evils of the world really does a number on you, especially when lacking a trusted adult to direct questions or seek comfort. I became curious about seemingly ordinary every day happenings. Did seriously no one else think it was weird that every morning in public school, a place meant for education, for socializing with your peers, a place to send children while parents spent all day working to afford the rent, put food on the table, pay the bills, that we were forced to pledge an allegiance to a flag like a bunch of lemmings?

Without really understanding what we were being asked to do or why, as kindergarteners we were taught to stand, look at a flag, and swear a blind oath. For kids already used to organized religion, this might just seem like another thing you just do, because that’s how it’s done and adults told you to. You’re a kid, what do you know? But my family never went to church, though I do have a faint memory of my Dad asking us to lie to my paternal Grandma when/if she asked us if we did on one of the handful of times we visited her. I’m not even baptized and to this day my parents blame me for not being god-fearing. The Bible is the world’s first book club, opinionated guardrails in attempts to avoid descending into the “wrong” kind of chaos, meant to control, instill fear. Power over people, not power to the people. Anyway, they had 18 years to influence my mind, and the only thing I learned about God under their roof was not to use his name in vain. I don’t think I even know what it meant to use a name in vain.  

I don’t remember being taught the pledge, but I do remember when my inner dialogue paused enough to internalize the words I was speaking. Reading comprehension > than my verbal, so I wrote the words down in my journal for my brain to do its thing, make them make sense. Connect with their meaning. Resonate. Give me a reason to believe. But they gave me the ick. Ew. Also. Why? Whose idea was it for kids to publicly kickstart their days this way? Hearing my classmates parrot in unison sealed the deal. 

I pledge allegiance to the flag
Of the United States of America
And to the republic, for which it stands
One nation, under god,
Indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

Creepy. Even more creepy today, as reality is crumbling and everything you thought you knew is NOT AT ALL WHAT IT SEEMED. Exposed. Democracy is dying, no one has liberty and justice is a joke to the devil. Evil is bubbling up. boils on the surface, oozing out into the world, preying on the vulnerable, infecting the innocent, deceiving the unaware. All of us, just pawns in a game we were never even playing. In a game we don’t want to play. Quite the snafu, eh? Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.

Yes, I’ve written about snafus before, though this one’s not cute like Curly. And I guarantee the guys with the guns did NOT say Situation Normal All Fouled Up. Ever.

^{Small ways AI can and will rewrite history. Stop using GPT. Stop relying on AI.}

The only reason I even had the confidence to stay seated was because I was in Mr. Burger’s class. He was funny and made teaching look cool. He never treated us like kids. He asked interesting questions. He listened to our answers and challenged us to think outside the boxes we were living in, and he seemed to see our specific boxes. He didn’t seem to notice I was a girl. So when he asked me to stay after class to chat about my decision to abstain from the pledge, I told him the truth. That I didn’t believe in god and I took issue with state propaganda. That it felt weird to pledge an allegiance to a flag. That I didn’t really understand the point. And then I told him what I had learned from Germany: blind obedience replaces judgement. 

I can’t remember what he said to me in return, but he never made me stand for the pledge again. No punishment. He did tell the class we had reached an agreement and if anyone else took issue with rising for the pledge, they were welcome to make their case. I don’t think anyone did.

Now I live directly across from an elementary school and I can’t escape those morning announcements every day school is in session. Last Friday, for the first time in 15 years, I heard a new message broadcast over the playground loudspeakers:

For the students who wish to participate,
please stand for the pledge of allegiance.

What a gift. Today is my birthday. I am 45 years old. I’m still digesting the horrors of the world, but these days I’m equipped with the processing tools to effectively face the demons who’ve always been here, walking amongst us, like footprints in the sand. I surround myself with many trusted adults, ask a lot of questions and seek comfort often. I find the good, string together the micro joys. The world is waking up. We got this.

_{B found a kite} 🪁