By Jeffrey Bell-Hanson

Sorry to those who either look to this blog for news about music-related issues, or who just want to avoid politics, but I did say that there might be some questions asked to readers. I posted some questions on my Facebook page recently that I felt ought to be asked in the wake of the uproar over the “anthem protests” in the NFL this fall. Of course they are not anthem protests. They are about what many believe to be unjust practices of our police with regard to citizens of color in the United States. (Even saying that trivializes it. These gestures of protest are about, at long last, achieving true justice in American society.)

But the protests have been designed to grab the attention of many of us who so easily tune this stuff out because it doesn’t affect us where we live. We can find all sorts of ways to avoid walking in each other’s shoes (or skins), but put it between us and our football games? Seems to have touched a nerve.

So, I wanted to explore the nature of this phenomenon of anthem/flag-worship. To that end, I posted the following questions to my Facebook page:

• When you stand for the playing of the anthem, if you do, why do you do it?
• Are you making a genuine expression of national pride in some aspect of what the country means to you, or are you doing it because people are watching and might think badly of you if you didn’t?
  • Follow-up: If it’s the former, what is that thing that inspires your sense of pride? Is it the hauntingly beautiful tune, “To Anacreon in Heaven,” or the striking combination of red, white and blue in “Old Glory,” or is it something less material, but also less abstract about your experience with life in the US?

• Do you stand and put your hand over your heart if you’re in your living room watching a football or basketball or hockey game?
• Should you, as Sarah Huckabee Sanders said, view this as a black and white decision (an unfortunate choice of words) that “all Americans should be proud to stand and salute…and be part of that process”?
• Do you agree with the president that we “can’t” have football players protesting in this way?

One of my friends (not just a Facebook friend, but a childhood friend) replied about his deeply-held convictions about honoring our country and those who serve it, including his friends and close relatives, and his own service. After explaining his feeling for these symbols, he expressed his belief that a respect for all that stands behind them should not abridge anyone’s rights to voice their grievances. He thinks this whole kerfuffle is a distraction. To which I would reply:

You’re right. It’s a distraction. But it’s still good to ask ourselves about our relationships with these symbols of our country. Here’s a bit about mine.

My dad was a conscientious objector in WWII. He was raised in one of the historic pacifist churches and had deep-seeded beliefs about war and its effects. His beliefs put him in a very small minority in this country during a war that we often look back on as one with particular moral clarity for our country. He and his family felt the sting of that minority status. His position was legal, but often regarded as traitorous. Nonetheless, he was a patriot who loved his country and wanted to serve it. Thankfully, he was given the opportunity to do so during those war years by helping to care for the mentally ill here at home.

Perhaps somewhat reflexively, he was wary of overt expressions of patriotism. It wasn’t because he wasn’t proud to be an American, but because he understood the complexity of what citizenship means. His reaction to the World War II Memorial in Washington, DC made clear his deep appreciation for the ideals of this nation. His friends, his classmates, and countless others of his generation—who did not agree with his choice during the war years—nevertheless sacrificed for his right to make that choice. No one understood that better than he did.

His idealistic beliefs were a powerful influence on me as a youngster. Yet with the passage of time I have come to see the complex relationship between idealism and community. So, I, living and working for years near Joint Base Lewis McChord, would often stand with my hand over my heart when I heard the anthem being played at about 4:30 in the afternoon, in my office, in my house, or wherever I was. I wanted to honor this country—my home—and those who serve it in the military, and in every other kind of public and private service, because doing so makes a space where what my dad believed and lived out is as valid as the beliefs of the members of the flight crews passing over my head in C-17s.

I have said little about the cause for which our sports figures are currently demonstrating. Hopefully this form of protest will lead us down a path toward a serious discussion of the justice that they rightfully seek. Their cause is older than our country, and is too long overdue for a resolution. What I seek to address here is the controversy over the means of their protest, and the reaction of our government to it.

As a musician, I have lost count of the Star Spangled Banners I have played, sung, or conducted, or the postings of the colors in which I have taken part. I have never really questioned the ritual or communal importance of these expressions. But, if someone ever required me to stand and salute when I heard the anthem or saw the flag, that’s when I would “take a knee” without question.

Next: (And this time I mean it) Exploring a piano’s past—It’s a mystery!