I was born on Flag Day, nearly two centuries after the Second Continental Congress passed a resolution officially adopting the Stars and Stripes as the unified flag for a new nation.
Every June 14 when I was a little girl, my mom would drive down the main street of our then-small town, past a line of American flags proudly posted in front of the pharmacy, the hardware store, the diner, and other mom-and-pop businesses.
“They put out their flag just for you,” my mom would say in front of my favorite variety store—a place whose aisles of paper products spawned my lifelong love of stationery.
Thirty-four years later, I began saying the same thing to my own Flag Day baby when we spotted the red, white, and blue on our shared birthday: “It’s just for you, my love.”
The flag is omnipresent, yet it easily blends into the background.
We notice when it’s at half-staff without stopping to investigate why. We stand for the national anthem at the stadium but sing with far more passion for “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” We happily wear the Stars and Stripes on a pair of swim trunks but rarely consider the history woven into the fabric. We can recite the Pledge of Allegiance from memory yet struggle to name the civic principles it actually binds us to. And we dutifully drop an American flag emoji into our holiday captions but skip the local town hall meeting.
Old Glory was hoisted atop Mount Suribachi on February 23, 1945, by a makeshift group of six service members who perfectly reflected the diverse patchwork of the nation they defended. Yet 76 years later, that same banner was swung as a makeshift weapon against Capitol Police officers on January 6. It represents the best of us—and all the ways we have fallen short of that “more perfect union.”
The flag flies for all of us, for each of us—for you and for me. And like democracy itself, we must put in the work every day to ensure it truly belongs to everyone who looks up and hopes it’s just for them.
As part of the 250+ at American initiative—AU’s yearlong exploration of our country’s complex identity and history and the ongoing work required to sustain a thriving democracy—we have launched an oral history project. I invite you to share your own reflections on what it means to build a more perfect union. Excerpts from the project will be featured in the fall issue of American magazine.
In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this special semiquincentennial-themed issue and that you find your own way to put in the daily, vital work of democracy.