Unpopular Opinion: "I Love The American Flag, But I've Never Been So Inspired To Burn One"

On this patriotic holiday weekend, let's talk about flag burning. And whatever you're ranting about now, and whether you are sick of the word "intentional,' and all other urgent items!

My daughter-in-law Dorita is a first-generation American and the wife of a U.S. Marine Corps veteran. She represents the promise of America.

Hi folks!

Happy weekend, however you’re spending it! I always get confused between Memorial Day and Labor Day and sometimes I even mix up Fourth Of July in there too. But because they are all celebrating patriotism in one way or the other, what better time to run this story questioning all that. Karim send it to me night before last with the subject line “Another 4 am rant!” referring to her initial 4 am rant which I wasn’t even sure at the time was a story submission.

So let’s talk about Karim’s current mid-wakefulness topic in the comments if you like or anything else political or otherwise that you feel like discussing. I’m going to use this comments section as an open thread that I will be in and out of (but seriously mostly in) through Monday, so anything that comes up during that time, from an interesting cocktail you just concocted to a shitty thing a family member said to a story idea you want to write to exactly where on the planet you are and what bathing suit you’re wearing there or not. I will respond to them all as well as leave my own action-packed updates. Anyway, we always make everything fun and funny, so let’s do it again.

XOXOXO Jane

PS If the main image in the story looks at all familiar, it's probably because I asked Karim if she could re-create this (how do you feel about someone describing something as iconic if it's something they made?) Sassy magazine cover with Mayim Bialik from November 1992. And I think she did a beautiful job!

The inspiration for the lead image today comes from this ahead-of-its-time (at least I didn’t repeat the word “iconic”) Sassy magazine cover from November, 1992. Do you remember it?

By Karim Trueblood

I love the American flag—what it has meant not only to me but to millions of people all over the world. As a naturalized American, I remember the joy of raising my right hand during my ceremony and swearing to renounce any alliance to another country and to defend the Constitution of the United States. Without hesitation I promised to serve this nation—even to bear arms if asked. Naturalized citizens make a conscious decision to commit, if necessary, to die for this country. I did not take that promise lightly and it has always stayed with me.

For me, the flag has never been just a cloth. It is stitched into my family, a family of service, military and public service alike. Between the three of us, we’ve served across four branches of the military and dedicated our lives to public service. My husband and I have both taught and continue to teach, from civics to interreligious understanding to constitutional law. Staying silent would not only be a disservice to our students and our communities, but we all agree it would be a serious character flaw.

I am aware of the cost of protecting this flag. We have lost family and friends while protecting this flag and what it stands for. A flag our enemies once feared, and the oppressed looked to as a sign of hope. But today, under this administration, I’ve never been so inspired to burn one.

Not because I hate my country, but because I can’t stand what it is becoming.Donald Trump’s Executive Order on Prosecuting Burning of the American Flag on August 25, 2025, is another example of where the country is and, even worse, where it is headed. This isn’t just another Trump tantrum-induced stunt for airtime—it’s plainly unconstitutional.

My citizenship ceremony on May 28, 2015, at the US Patent and Trademark Office in Alexandria, VA.(I don't know why this picture appears smaller, but it's just me alone here right now on this holiday weekend, so I'll try to fix it but don't hold your breath. – Jane)

In 1989, the landmark Supreme Court case Texas v. Johnson held that burning the American flag is protected under the First Amendment. Symbolic speech, meaning actions, still falls under the guarantee of free speech. You don’t have to like it, but it’s the law. And the law says the First Amendment wins.

That ruling mattered because flag burning has long been a flashpoint in our democracy—whether during the Vietnam War protests, the civil rights movement, or the anti-Iraq war demonstrations. People didn’t burn the flag because they hated America; they did it because they wanted our country to live up to its own promises. The act has always been about dissent, not destruction—and dissent is precisely what the First Amendment protects.

Even worse, Trump’s people know this. In 1990, the Supreme Court in United States v. Eichman struck down the Flag Protection Act of 1989, reaffirming that state statutes—and yes, executive orders—can’t stomp on constitutional rights. The EO itself mentions Texas v. Johnson, almost taunting people, but conveniently ignores Eichman. Why? Acknowledging it would admit this EO is as useless as a soggy fireworks stand after the Fourth of July.

But to be the Devil’s Advocate, I wonder, what counts as desecration? Burning? Painting it upside down on a sign? Using it in art? Dancing flamenco on it? Isn’t desecrating the flag putting it on obnoxious, cheap bikinis for tourists to buy in Daytona Beach? For the classier desecrators, what about ties?

Here is the real kicker: if we enforced the Flag Code, almost everyone would be guilty. The law says the flag should never be worn as clothing, printed on napkins (Fourth of July paper plates, anyone?), or used in advertising. Even hugging the flag—Trump’s favorite stage prop—violates the Code. So, by his own rules, Trump should be perp-walked every time he bear-hugs Old Glory (without consent, of course).

In other words, the government is once more ignoring all those everyday violations of “respect” while threatening prison time for burning the flag in protest. Fashion statements get a pass, but dissent gets handcuffed.

Travis ensuring I am safe while protesting in DC, in front of the White House, August 2025.

For me, protest has never been about chaos—it’s been about exercising the rights the Constitution guarantees. I’ve marched, I’ve written, I’ve petitioned, and I’ve always believed those acts make this country stronger. Protesting also gives me hope in a way that not many things do. When I’m sad or overwhelmed, my husband will sometimes ask if I want to “see” protesters exercising their rights. He puts me in the car with coffee in hand and drives me around D.C. like a puppy. The sights of people demanding to be heard constantly change my mood, because seeing people stand up to power reminds me we are not alone.

Still, I’d be lying if I said I don’t feel intimidated now in ways I never used to. Walking past military vehicles stationed at intersections, seeing armed officers, or hearing about random arrests, creates an atmosphere of fear that chills even peaceful protests. That’s something that I had never experienced before in D.C. This city has always felt like the beating heart of democracy. This is why the flag order matters: it’s not about patriotism, it’s about power. It adds one more layer of threat, one more way to make people think twice before exercising the rights they still have.

I also know that I protest differently now. I used to march with strangers, linked by shared anger or hope. Today, I often rely on the privilege of having a husband—an American Indian, an attorney—stand beside me in case things take a turn. That’s a privilege that not everyone has, and it reminds me of why solidarity matters. Even if we think that we are not being impacted by this chaos yet, we should still stand with our friends, our neighbors, and our coworkers. Because if history has taught us anything, it’s that silence protects no one.

They may not come for you today, but they will tomorrow. And the only way to hold on to our collective freedoms is to use them, together. And here is the part that really matters: prosecutors are ordered to “vigorously” enforce this, with no standards. So, I am afraid to ask, who’s going to pay the price? You guessed: the same Black and brown communities already over-policed and over-prosecuted.

This order does not protect the flag or America. It hands prosecutors another blank check to target dissent. And that’s the danger. If we start losing constitutional protections here, where does it stop? Today it’s the flag. Tomorrow is a protest. Next week will be our words, our art, our vote.

My husband's picture when he served in the Navy in 2009.

I have a question for my friends in red states (of which I have many), the Second Amendment hard-core defenders who wear tactical gear to church: If they infringe on our right to free speech, what makes you think that your guns are safe? A weak government fears dissent—and especially fears the people it can’t control.

If our leaders are more afraid of a burning piece of cloth than losing the freedoms that the cloth represents, then the flag itself is already in danger. Our American experiment is at the verge of irreparable damage. Not from protesters, but from the fear and fragility of those in power. The flag we have all carried as a shield to give us strength when necessary. The oath of allegiance I swore to defend the day I became an American—all of it is diminished when dissent is treated as a crime. The only way to honor what the flag truly stands for is to keep exercising the freedoms it represents—honoring the sacrifices of those before us while protecting those rights for generations to come.