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. Every time I recite the pledge alongside my fellow Saints during assembly, I find myself in a mini existential crisis. Do I place my hand over my heart? Is it weirder if I don’t blend in or if I pledge allegiance to a country I don’t belong to? Amidst my dilemma, one thought keeps echoing in my mind: I still can’t quite grasp the sheer scale of American patriotism.
Take the pledge of allegiance for example. Due to Austria’s history with Nazism and the rhetoric that was perpetuated during that time period, showing any strong passion for the nation is very problematic. Honestly, if I heard of a school that made its students pledge their allegiance to the Austrian flag once a week, I would be worried that the education system was failing us. But in the U.S., it’s just standard operating procedure. Every Tuesday, without fail, the entire school stands and recites exact the same words, with their hand placed firmly over their heart. And honestly, it’s impressive. It’s like this weirdly synchronized performance art, a group of 500 students simultaneously swearing loyalty to a rectangle of fabric.
Don’t get me started on the national anthem. Before soccer games, everyone, from players to coaches to parents, turns towards the flag while the anthem blasts from the speakers. Sure, in Austria, the national anthem plays before our national team plays against other countries. But a high school soccer game? That feels a bit excessive. And here, it’s not just the people involved in the game that participate. Anyone that just happens to be close to the field stops everything they’re doing, takes off their cap, places their hand firmly on their heart and stares at the nearest flag with pure devotion. The first time that happened to me I thought I’d been bewitched and stumbled into some kind of seance.
Then there’s the actual flag itself. It’s everywhere. On campus, in every restaurant parking lot and even in the driveway at home. I mean, I understand if the flag is flying next to a government building. After all, it’s a democratic institution. At school, you can argue that American ideals are being taught. But Publix? Come on. The only store that embodies America well enough to deserve a gigantic flag flying in the parking lot is Buc-ee’s. In Austria, you might see the flag flying during special occasions like an important holiday or a soccer game, but other than that, it’s kind of a rare sighting.
Before I came here, I thought patriotism was reserved for July 4th, but I’ve come to realize that it’s not just a yearly performance; people really live by it.
So, while I still don’t quite know whether or not I should place my hand over my heart during assembly, I am starting to understand American patriotism. I mean, if I belonged to the only country that had Chick-Fil-A, Chipotle and Crumbl, I’d bow down to a rectangular piece of fabric too.
