by Christine Merser
On Wednesday morning, in a fit of pain, anger, hurt, and shock, I called my lawyer to start divorce proceedings in my longest relationship: my marriage to my country. You can read that post here.
I was done. End of story. No more reading about politics or what anyone in government was doing. Divorced. And I made no pledge to speak well of my ex. In fact, I couldn’t wait to recount stories about how he done me wrong. The gender on this is right.
Then last night, deep into the darkness of 2:00 a.m., Paul Simon was singing, “Hello darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again,” in the background as my imaginary friend, Häagen-Dazs, and I were having at it in the dark for the third night in a row. Making memories.
Then I remembered something. A memory I hadn’t had in close to sixty-something years.
I was in the third or fourth grade. (Picture above and to quote Elle Woods, I was unfortunate looking, but because the world was different then, I didn’t know it. I did get better with age I think.) It was the choral Christmas show the evening before Christmas break, where joining the chorus meant singing amazing songs for your parents in the audience. Let’s say fifty kids, and then two hundred parents, siblings, and grandparents. The crowning finale wasn’t a Christmas carol but a song about country.
Oh, I loved my country even then. When I learned the Pledge of Allegiance in kindergarten, I said it everywhere. In stores, to people trying to politely walk away, and when I would ask why they didn’t have their hand over their heart when I was doing it for them, they put their hand over their heart so I could start again and do it properly. I even knocked on neighbors’ doors sharing it. I love my country.
Another thing. I can’t sing. Not as in a quiet smile about someone who is a little off-key, but more like my dog leaves the room when I am singing loud. And I love to sing. Anyway, the finale song was This is My Country, written in 1940 and played a lot during the war. So much for the separation of church and state.
This is my country sung by Tennessee Ernie Ford
For the other songs, the choral leader kept asking me to sing more quietly. To his credit, he did it after class, and I did as requested, whispering Silent Night. But when it came to This is My Country, I explained to him that I had to sing it loud; I was obligated to do it because I pledged allegiance to it. End of story.
So, he kept me after class two weeks before the big event, and he told me I was going to have a special role. I was to walk off the bleacher just before the song, stand in front of the microphone that was centered to pick up the group, and not sing the intro chorus or the ending, but stand there staring straight ahead. In the middle of the song, there would be music, and I was to recite the following:
What difference if I hail from North or South, or east or west
My heart is filled with love for thee
I only know I swell with pride, deep within my breast,
I thrill to see old glory paint the breeze.
With hand upon my heart, I’m thankful for my home land,
For all I love is here within her gates,
My soul is rooted deeply on the soil on which I stand,
For these are mine, my own United States.
I was amazing. I was great. So great that people clapped at the end of my part before the end of the song. It was one of the great moments of my childhood. I found a rendition of it with the speaking part in it. Please listen to it here. I will know if you didn’t and come and do the whole thing in person for you if you don’t. I promise, it’s better to listen to it here.
Anyway, listen up, you feckless president elect. This is my country. Mine. You may represent the majority of those who voted, but it’s still my country. And tens of millions of others’. So you have awakened a sleeping giant in me. The eight-year-old who stopped strangers to recite her allegiance to her country isn’t going anywhere.
Have a great weekend. The only thing I’m breaking up with is Häagen-Dazs. I have to get in shape for the battles ahead. I hope you will join me.
Afterthoughts:
When researching the song, I found another song that Tennessee Ernie Ford made famous that my father would sing to me. Wow. How interesting in this moment in time. 16 Tons.
I see now that the room was all white. Very white. That the concert today wouldn’t look like it did then. I’m good with the people singing looking different from each other. It would enrich my experience of it all.
For the record, we have listened to TEF’s rendition. You’re welcome to visit anytime but no need to “sing” for us. With love, respect and so much admiration, L&R💙