Patriotism and flag desecration in eyes of beholders
If the weather cooperates, I'll kick off the Flag Day weekend this morning in the suburbs as one of several adults leading nine impressionable grade-schoolers in a blatant, public display of flag desecration.
We don't call it a blatant, public display of flag desecration. We call it a youth baseball game, and we certainly don't mean any disrespect. But our uniforms sporting the flag of the United States of America on our left sleeve are in clear violation of the Flag Code.
U.S. Code, Title 4, Chapter 1, Section 8(j) reads, "No part of the flag should ever be used as a costume or athletic uniform." The code does allow for a patch, exactly like the ones we wear, to be affixed to uniforms of "military personnel, firemen, policemen and members of patriotic organizations," so if our game is raided by federal agents, we'll argue that a youth baseball team sponsored by a local real estate firm qualifies as a patriotic organization.
I'm bugged by the flag on my coach's jersey because I treat the flag and national anthem with respect, and I don't want to violate U.S. Code. I console myself with the fact that the jersey's tag says it was "made with pride in the U.S.A."
In 1968, dozens of people were arrested nationwide for wearing flag patches or flag-like images on jeans, bandannas or other apparel. Radical Yippie Abbie Hoffman, famous for protesting the Democratic National Convention in Chicago, was arrested after wearing a shirt that looked like a U.S. flag. During a 2005 Memorial Day tribute to our veterans, Gen. Richard Myers, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, wore an almost identical shirt. He was not arrested.
The Flag Code is a toothless, unenforceable, hollow (if well-meaning) gesture that imposes no penalties for violations. State and federal flag-desecration laws that punished violators suffered from the same ambiguity and weakness. The U.S. Supreme Court rightfully threw them all out in 1989 and 1990 as unconstitutional, and Congress has managed to resist the urge to bring them back.
South Barrington's Josephine Di Fronzo, listed as president of D & P Construction Co., has made her waste-hauling company stand out by painting U.S. flags on the side of its big, metal trash receptacles. When the Flag Code says "the flag should never be used as a receptacle for receiving, holding, carrying, or delivering anything" does that mean you shouldn't toss garbage in something with the flag painted on it?
People with that waste-hauling company aren't known for talking to reporters, and refused to answer any questions about the red-white-and-blue trash bins or even tell me the name of either of the women who hang up on me. So I'll have to guess that customers consider the bins an expression of patriotism.
But if a community college artist, maybe one with dreadlocks and a "foreign" name, painted Old Glory on trash cans to make some sort of artistic statement about America, some people would consider that to be an offensive display bordering on terrorism.
While flag-desecration laws now are almost exclusively identified with flag burners, that concept first surfaced at the end of the 19th Century as a way to stop merchants and politicians from using the flag as advertising gimmicks to sell beer or candidates. Illinois passed one of the nation's first flag-desecration laws in 1897.
Legendary columnist Jack Mabley, who died in 2006, was a stickler for the Flag Code. He used to bring in advertisements (many clipped by his wife, Fran) that showed the U.S. flag on beach towels, bikinis, lawn chairs and even toilet seat covers.
All uses of the flag seem to be protected by the First Amendment, whether you are using that freedom of expression to make money, make art, show patriotism or protest U.S. policy.
When our baseball team takes the field today with our code-violating U.S. flag patches, we won't be protesting, making any patriotic statement about Flag Day or commenting on U.S. policy other than, of course, to say we will be engaging in the pursuit of happiness.