Standing Was Never the Issue

Parallel Warnings in Plain Sight

I was offered an “I Stand for the Flag” bumper sticker once.

My father-in-law meant it kindly. It wasn’t a challenge or a provocation. Just an offer. A shared symbol. A small adhesive declaration of values.

I declined.

Not because I don’t stand for the flag. I do. I stand for it in stadiums and gymnasiums and dusty fields where kids fidget and hands go to hearts a half beat late. I stand without irony.

I declined because I understood that the sticker wasn’t actually about standing.

It was about ending the conversation.