on anthems and irony
Irony is a difficult concept to teach. When I present the concept to students, I define it as what happens when the reality (or truth) is right in front of someone but he, she, they are unable to see it. Students struggle with this definition, so I often add another definition, that of irony being the opposite of what is expected occurring.
Students still struggle with it. They can’t really be blamed for it, seeing as it’s a concept that is lost on so many people who are far older than they.
There are those in the country of which I am a citizen who are clutching their pearls so tightly that their fingers are bleeding. And all of this over a scrap of cloth. Perhaps I am being undiplomatic, but it strikes me as being the perfect example of irony, the kind of irony that is most important but perhaps most difficult to understand, that of being unable to see a reality that is right in front of us.
Taking a knee, raising a fist, or remaining seated during the playing of the U.S. national anthem has drawn vitriolic criticism, the kind that has me raising an eyebrow because, as far as I know, none of these athletes has taken a match to the flag. Yet, there are those who have taken to burning the jerseys of certain NFL players in their own form of protest.
For a moment, my eyes just rolled at the news that His Fraudulency had taken to Twitter and ranted about the protests in the NFL and the NBA. Couldn’t people see, I wondered, that this was nothing but a distraction from real issues? And how can people be so angry that a certain NHL team is taking the obsequious route? I’d have to be angry to be surprised, and it’s not so surprising that a sport that is 93% white would treat this type of controversy as if it were radioactive. (And, if I’m being painfully honest, I too have bitten my tongue and fallen in line to ensure my own job security). But then I learned I could still be surprised at the words that His Fraudulency uses (and that is an irony that I really shouldn’t be caught by).
It’s not simply the fact that His Fraudulency used words that are blatantly misogynistic. It is not simply the fact that His Fraudulency is over-stepping his bounds by calling for the firing of players who protest (is anyone entitled to a job as a professional athlete? No. Are they entitled to exercise their First Amendment rights? Yes.) It is the irony of those who cry out that the flag and the armed forces and the country are being blatantly disrespected, but who do not condemn the man who used language that violated the dignity of the presidency and blatantly insulted and degraded citizens of the United States, the man who refused to call white supremacists what they are, but who used degrading language towards those who exercised rights guaranteed to them as American citizens.
For nine years I taught in a school in which the Pledge of Allegiance was recited on a daily basis. The day of the Sandy Hook massacre was the last time I recited the Pledge of Allegiance. Occasionally, students would ask why I wouldn’t recite. I would only reply that I had my reasons that I didn’t wish to share. I deflected because I was afraid my anger would spill over.
In the ensuing years, I have studied the history of education, read about how the Pledge of Allegiance was used to indoctrinate children who had been ripped away from their families and forced into boarding schools, all in an effort to “kill the Indian and save the man.” And I thought my anger was threatening to spill over, erupt and burn me from the inside out.
It’s only been in the past few days that I’ve been able to see the truth. And I can’t speak for those who are choosing to protest, but I suspect that they, like me, are not the petulant fools taken over by anger and resentment that some would think they are.
If they’re anything like me they’re unable to stand because their hearts are broken in pieces before them, pierced through and shattered because of the lies we were told all our lives.
Students still struggle with it. They can’t really be blamed for it, seeing as it’s a concept that is lost on so many people who are far older than they.
There are those in the country of which I am a citizen who are clutching their pearls so tightly that their fingers are bleeding. And all of this over a scrap of cloth. Perhaps I am being undiplomatic, but it strikes me as being the perfect example of irony, the kind of irony that is most important but perhaps most difficult to understand, that of being unable to see a reality that is right in front of us.
Taking a knee, raising a fist, or remaining seated during the playing of the U.S. national anthem has drawn vitriolic criticism, the kind that has me raising an eyebrow because, as far as I know, none of these athletes has taken a match to the flag. Yet, there are those who have taken to burning the jerseys of certain NFL players in their own form of protest.
For a moment, my eyes just rolled at the news that His Fraudulency had taken to Twitter and ranted about the protests in the NFL and the NBA. Couldn’t people see, I wondered, that this was nothing but a distraction from real issues? And how can people be so angry that a certain NHL team is taking the obsequious route? I’d have to be angry to be surprised, and it’s not so surprising that a sport that is 93% white would treat this type of controversy as if it were radioactive. (And, if I’m being painfully honest, I too have bitten my tongue and fallen in line to ensure my own job security). But then I learned I could still be surprised at the words that His Fraudulency uses (and that is an irony that I really shouldn’t be caught by).
It’s not simply the fact that His Fraudulency used words that are blatantly misogynistic. It is not simply the fact that His Fraudulency is over-stepping his bounds by calling for the firing of players who protest (is anyone entitled to a job as a professional athlete? No. Are they entitled to exercise their First Amendment rights? Yes.) It is the irony of those who cry out that the flag and the armed forces and the country are being blatantly disrespected, but who do not condemn the man who used language that violated the dignity of the presidency and blatantly insulted and degraded citizens of the United States, the man who refused to call white supremacists what they are, but who used degrading language towards those who exercised rights guaranteed to them as American citizens.
For nine years I taught in a school in which the Pledge of Allegiance was recited on a daily basis. The day of the Sandy Hook massacre was the last time I recited the Pledge of Allegiance. Occasionally, students would ask why I wouldn’t recite. I would only reply that I had my reasons that I didn’t wish to share. I deflected because I was afraid my anger would spill over.
In the ensuing years, I have studied the history of education, read about how the Pledge of Allegiance was used to indoctrinate children who had been ripped away from their families and forced into boarding schools, all in an effort to “kill the Indian and save the man.” And I thought my anger was threatening to spill over, erupt and burn me from the inside out.
It’s only been in the past few days that I’ve been able to see the truth. And I can’t speak for those who are choosing to protest, but I suspect that they, like me, are not the petulant fools taken over by anger and resentment that some would think they are.
If they’re anything like me they’re unable to stand because their hearts are broken in pieces before them, pierced through and shattered because of the lies we were told all our lives.