Essay On The Pledge Of Allegiance
I am living the American dream. No, I do not aspire to live in an oversized house, protected by a white-picket fence. But I am living the American dream. See, the American dream is not, and never was, about economic prosperity; rather, the American dream is to dream- to imagine a world better than our’s. Similarly, it is the American spirit of resilience, ingenuity and community that drives us to actualize our dreams. It is my observation that students at LHS and beyond share a dream: Genuine equality for all, acknowledged by the law, law enforcement and society. Sitting during the Pledge of Allegiance is our way of moving towards this lofty, complex and necessary goal. Let me be clear, the Pledge is not the problem; we are. What follows is not meant to diminish the value of
…show more content…
the Pledge and the consequent nationalism it incites. The Pledge is powerful- so is silence when pride is expected. The impact of sitting is profound. Through this non-violent, minimally disruptive action, we shine a piercing light on the discrepancies that exist in the U.S. and its legal process. Sitting shakes the status quo- some see this as an indignity, but this is not the case when the status quo is death of innocent black men.
According to the American Journal of Public Health, black men are three times more likely to die from legal intervention than white men. Regardless of whether this is due to racial bias, socioeconomic-crime correlations or combination thereof, lives are being lost. That is why we sit- to bring awareness to the indifference shown towards the lives of black men; we sit to stand up. As a white man, I find that is far too easy to stand- to turn a blind eye to injustice.
The deaths of black men simply don’t affect me. But it does. Inhumanity is not a black problem; inhumanity is a human problem. And I am human. So, I sit. The effect of sitting isn’t in the action itself, but in the eyes of the people who see me sit. They see dissent from unspoken rules, bold yet quiet. They see mature poise directed into a concentrated message: Stop killing black men. Unfortunately, they also see a lack of gratitude. My grandfather enlisted at the age of 17. He recently died at the age of 67 from disease associated with his service; still, he considered himself one of the lucky ones. His brother, my father’s and my namesake, died in Vietnam. He was 22. Yet, my actions are often perceived as disrespect or a lack of appreciation for my countrymen and countrywomen that fought for me. This is not my intention. Rather, I sit to ensure our soldiers didn’t die in vain; it is my responsibility to use the liberties that my great-uncle died for- the right to dream and actualize dreams. It is my inheritance to fight, on a significantly less perilous level, as my grandfather and his brother
did. Sitting is not disrespectful to those who lost their lives defending us; rather, sitting is a testament to their lives and their sacrifices. Sitting to bring attention to injustice is the pinnacle of patriotism. It’s a great day to be a Patriot, so sit down to stand up.
the Pledge and the consequent nationalism it incites. The Pledge is powerful- so is silence when pride is expected. The impact of sitting is profound. Through this non-violent, minimally disruptive action, we shine a piercing light on the discrepancies that exist in the U.S. and its legal process. Sitting shakes the status quo- some see this as an indignity, but this is not the case when the status quo is death of innocent black men.
According to the American Journal of Public Health, black men are three times more likely to die from legal intervention than white men. Regardless of whether this is due to racial bias, socioeconomic-crime correlations or combination thereof, lives are being lost. That is why we sit- to bring awareness to the indifference shown towards the lives of black men; we sit to stand up. As a white man, I find that is far too easy to stand- to turn a blind eye to injustice.
The deaths of black men simply don’t affect me. But it does. Inhumanity is not a black problem; inhumanity is a human problem. And I am human. So, I sit. The effect of sitting isn’t in the action itself, but in the eyes of the people who see me sit. They see dissent from unspoken rules, bold yet quiet. They see mature poise directed into a concentrated message: Stop killing black men. Unfortunately, they also see a lack of gratitude. My grandfather enlisted at the age of 17. He recently died at the age of 67 from disease associated with his service; still, he considered himself one of the lucky ones. His brother, my father’s and my namesake, died in Vietnam. He was 22. Yet, my actions are often perceived as disrespect or a lack of appreciation for my countrymen and countrywomen that fought for me. This is not my intention. Rather, I sit to ensure our soldiers didn’t die in vain; it is my responsibility to use the liberties that my great-uncle died for- the right to dream and actualize dreams. It is my inheritance to fight, on a significantly less perilous level, as my grandfather and his brother
did. Sitting is not disrespectful to those who lost their lives defending us; rather, sitting is a testament to their lives and their sacrifices. Sitting to bring attention to injustice is the pinnacle of patriotism. It’s a great day to be a Patriot, so sit down to stand up.