For which it stands

The politics and pablum of the pledge of allegiance

When you write a political column in Oklahoma, deciding which legislative chazerai (Yiddish: ‘loathsome trash’) to cover is like choosing which dessert to snag at the Bacchanal Buffet at Caesars in Vegas.

So, as tempting as it was, this column will not be about the law1 that would increase the penalty for cursing, will not be about the law2 that would allow guns inside the state capitol, and will not be about the unwillingness of legislators to allocate funds3 so pieces of that state capitol won’t come crashing down on their heads during their daily prayers inside their tax-supported meditation rooms, which this column will also not be about.

This installment, rather, will be about a bill that would require Oklahoma students to recite the Pledge of Allegiance in public schools — bills that have passed the Senate Education Committee and will soon get a hearing before the full Senate.

That sound you just heard is the Founding Fathers doing the tarantella in their graves.

Thank God — the one whom the pledge tells us we’re “under” (well, at least since 19544)— that State Senator Rob Standridge, R-Norman, knows what’s right for America5.

“One bill would force elementary students to recite the pledge each day, while it would be optional for other public schools in the district. A second bill would require the pledge be recited once each day in all public schools.”

Wonderful. Nothing says freedom like ordering 6- and 7-year-olds to publicly proclaim their loyalty on a daily basis and to direct it to a piece of fabric often sewn together in China.6 (Ninety-four percent, or $3.6 million’s worth, of flags imported into the U.S. last year came from China, according to data from the U.S. Census Bureau.)

There goes the field trips to the flag factory. Still, bill supporters say the time has come to return the ritual to the public-school classroom. I must have missed all the protests from angry parents who tied up traffic with their chants and signs of “No Pledge, No Peace.”

Look, this is a creepy and cynical attempt by legislators to wrap themselves in one of those aforementioned Chinese-made flags rather than actually doing something about the problems of education in this state. For starters, kids can opt out; for another, there's no penalty if they don’t recite it. Is there a volume requirement? Or will teachers be walking around like Sergeant Carter from the old Gomer Pyle, USMC sitcom, yelling, “I can’t hear you”?

For yet another, it’s probably unconstitutional.

In 1943, The Supreme Court8 pretty much closed the book on such things anyway when Justice Jackson wrote for the majority in West Virginia State Board of Education v. Barnette: “If there is any fixed star in our constitutional constellation, it is that no official, high or petty, can prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of opinion or force citizens to confess by word or act their faith therein. If there are any circumstances which permit an exception, they do not now occur to us.”
So why even go through the exercise9? Short answer: It’s Oklahoma, dude, and we got the disingenuousness to prove it.

Standridge said making the pledge a structured part of the day “is the least we can do” to honor those who founded the country and the sacrifices of those who fought and died for it since. With the tone in the nation and the way things are going, it should be up to the parents to decide – not teachers and schools – to decide whether [children] say the pledge or not.”

Hold it, Hoss. You’re worried about the “tone in the nation”? Would that be the tone of GOP-favorite Ted Nugent calling the President of the United States a “subhuman mongrel” (a tone you haven’t denounced, which is the least you could do)? Or maybe it was the tone that U.S. Congressman Jim Bridenstine (R-Tulsa) used when he kibitzed with the woman who talked of her desire to hang the president (a tone you haven’t denounced, which is the least you could do)? Or maybe it was the tone your colleague Mike Reynolds (R-OKC) used when he said, “It is not our job to see that anyone gets an education10. It is not the responsibility of me, you, or any constituent in my district to pay for his or any other persons [sic] education. Their potential to benefit society is irrelevant” (a tone you haven’t denounced, which is the least you could do, being so concerned about the youth of this state as you are).

That is why things in America are going “the way they are.” Your Pledge bill is not going to change the douchebaggery that produced such vitriolic tones. It will just give them a place to hide. By the way, how come bills like yours are never introduced when a Republican is in the White House? While we’re on the subject of flags, what in the name of wasted legislative time is this all about?

An Act relating to the state flag; directing that the state flag be folded in a certain manner; providing for codification; and providing an effective date.

Really, a flag-folding bill? Is this a problem? Apparently so.

In a House Committee on States Rights, as reported by Kellie Reidlinger, Journal Legislative Report, State Representative Mike Ritze (R-Broken Arrow) said that government officials had passed away in his district and no one knew how to fold a flag.

That’s equal parts sad and hysterical.

(Oh, and not for nothing, Francis Bellamy, the Pledge’s author, also wrote something called Jesus the Socialist.)

We continue.

The bill, which will be headed to the full senate for a vote soon (and, as our favorite fictional political adviser, Toby Ziegler, would say, "I’ll bet all the money in my pocket against all the money in your pockets," it becomes law), came about, Standridge says, when a grassroots11 effort by a Republican women’s group decided the state’s school curricula wasn’t patriotic enough.

What could possibly go wrong there?

The bill also requires an American flag be displayed either inside or outside every public school, as well as instruction in the history of the American flag.

In an editorial a few weeks back in Tulsa World, OU President David Boren wrote:

We will continue to invest less in education13 per student than any of the states that surround us: Texas, Kansas, Colorado, Arkansas, Missouri and New Mexico. In the 1970s, about 50 percent of OU's budget came from the state … By the time I left the U.S. Senate to come home to OU, the state was contributing only 32 percent of the budget. It fell to about 17 percent last year, and it will be about 15 percent if this current budget proposal is not changed.

But I bet we’ll have more flags per cafeteria than any school in Albuquerque. 

Forcing kids to say the pledge every morning and strategically placing flags through the school like hand sanitizers on a cruise ship has as much to do with patriotism as does the red, white, and blue bandana wrapped around Phil Robertson’s forehead. Worse, the Oklahoma legislators who proposed this measure are the same ones who allowed the state to rank first in the nation in education cuts14, who sat by while math scores fell below the national average, and who pushed for the teaching of fairytales15 over real science.

Students in Oklahoma deserve more than political posturing. They need more teachers, textbooks, music and art education, and food. Yes, food. One in five children in Oklahoma suffers from “food insecurity,” a condition where healthy food isn’t “readily available and accessible.16”

So, yeah, feel good:  Oklahoma children, with their right hands over their hearts, will soon be saying the pledge and feeling a connection to something larger than themselves — America. But many of them will also have their left hands over their stomachs, feeling a hunger — their own. And in that moment, during that 31-word recitation, they will experience both a country’s promise and its shame.