Let Me Tell You About My Flag

By Isabel Lyman
September 19, 2001

It was an electrifying moment. On Sept. 10, a dark-haired woman named Jennie Traschen spoke at the now-famous Amherst Select Board meeting at which the flag-display policy was being debated. "The flag," she told the Select Board in a statement that was reported in this newspaper, "is a symbol of tyranny and fear and destruction and terrorism." I gasped. In a room filled with veterans and patriots, that sentence had as much impact as if she had burned Old Glory on the Town Common. Amherst resident Phyllis Daley had three words for Traschen as the latter walked past her seat: "Shame on you!"

Since that meeting, and since the events of Sept. 11, 2001, other outraged citizens have repeated Traschen's words - almost verbatim - to me.

I share their outrage. Such "I hate America" sentiments reflect a lack of gratitude for all the good the United States has done, all the blood we've shed on foreign soil, all the money we've given to poorer nations, all the immigrants' dreams that have come true.

But it is easy for me to dismiss her remarks as a childish rant. See, that isn't my American flag she's talking about. Not even close. Let me tell you about my flag.

My flag is the gigantic one that was hung by rescuers at the Pentagon near the crash site of American Airlines Flight 77.

My flag is the one that flew amidst the gray rubble of the World Trade Center towers as emergency crews carried out orange body bags.

My flag is the one that adorable Alana Milawski, age 4, triumphantly waved at a vigil in Las Vegas in honor of the victims and survivors of the terrorist attack.

My flag flies in a field of grass in western Pennsylvania in memory of 44 innocent people.

My flag is the one flying half-staff in downtown Amherst outside Hastings that my 16-year-old son attached to the utility pole.

My flag is the one that flies outside the Oklahoma City bombing memorial in honor of folks like Christoffer Carstanjen and Jessica Sachs. Two who had ties to the University of Massachusetts, and two who died in the hijackings.

My flag is the one that was sold out at the Wal-Mart in Hadley.

My flag is the one carefully held by a man outside the U.S. Embassy in Tel Aviv by the sign that read, "All of us today are USA."

My flag is the one the New York firefighters clutched when they stood outside St. Francis of Assisi Church in honor of the Rev. Mychal Judge.

My flag is the one that traders at the Chicago Mercantile Exchange tucked into their yellow jackets.

My flag is the one hung at a construction site in Times Square near a banner that noted, "Freedom will be defended."

My flag is the living flag devised by 10,000 citizens wearing red, white, and blue in Tucson, Ariz.

My flag is the one carefully draped over the casket of New York Fire Department Chief Peter Ganci.

My flag is the one that mourners at commentator Barbara Olson's memorial service in Arlington, Va., placed on their suit lapels and somber dresses.

My flag is the one in downtown Northampton that a crowd outside Spoleto restaurant faced as they sang the national anthem during a candlelight vigil.

My flag is the one that our president, George W. Bush, raised when he visited Ground Zero.

My flag is the one with the broad stripes and bright stars that flies over the land of the free and the home of the brave.

My flag is a symbol of hope and sacrifice.

My flag is a symbol of unity and freedom.

I hope my flag is your flag. God bless - and guide - America.

Targeted for hate mail

By Jennie Traschen
September 28, 2001 

Since the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, we've all spent a good deal of time reflecting on the heroism that so many people have shown. We have heard about the firefighters and other rescue workers who put their lives at risk, many of whom gave their lives to save other people. We have heard about the phone conversation recording how the passengers in one of the planes, acted heroically so that their plane would not be used to kill further innocent people.

The horrifying core of Sept. 11's events was the murder of so many innocent people and the grief of all those who remain. We think about those who died on the planes. We think about those who were buried alive. We cannot change what has happened, but we can try to follow the examples of heroism which are have been placed before us.

The work that needs to be done is to prevent as much further death and suffering as we possibly can. Part of this work, I think, is very simple. It involves figuring out what we should not do. If we love a mother, father, sister, brother, daughter, son or friend, then we don't have to explain the fact that their well being is more important to us than anything else. It just is so. Therefore, we understand how terrible it is for innocent, ordinary people to be killed by bombs or bullets, no matter where they live. For they too are children, with siblings and parents. Revenge against innocent people should not be any part of addressing our own loss.

Figuring out what we should do is a more challenging task. I do not think that capturing Osama bin Laden and his associates will be sufficient to make the world safe from terrorism. Our work must include asking some difficult questions and doing some important learning. What are the real roots of the terrorism? I think we have to do some learning about what goes on in places like Iraq, Palestine, Afghanistan and Saudi Arabia. What are the living conditions and the political conditions like for most people in these countries? How have the sanctions against Iraq affected the Iraqi people? What disease and death among children has resulted from the sanctions, and can we understand the grief of their parents? What's it like living in a Palestinian refugee camp? What role has the U.S. played in these countries and how do the people who live there think about the U.S.?

We have to do our homework. We must work to establish a humane peace, globally. For the causes of violence, hate and terror, are global. We need to understand that trying to explain why we have become the targets of terrorism is not in any way the same as condoning it. We do need, will need, the strength and vision of heroes to carry out this work.

I requested space for this commentary because the Bulletin printed a very misleading "quote" from me two weeks ago that was extracted from a statement I made at a meeting of the Amherst Select Board Sept. 10, the night before the attack. My comments were part of a public discussion about the display of 29 additional flags in downtown Amherst. This "quote" was further distributed around the Internet, showing up recently on the Wall Street Journal online Opinion page.

As a result, I have received a large quantity of hateful e-mail and phone calls. Most of these have been ugly and violent in tone. Many recent ones, from readers of the WSJ site, have also been obscene. Almost all have been anonymous. These anonymous, hostile, obscene messages accuse me of undermining American freedoms. They accuse me of supporting violence and terrorism.

This could not be further from the truth. Since I was a child, I have been involved in working for peace. I abhor violence, torture, and murder. At the Select Board hearing, at which there were quite a few veterans present, I spoke about how I learned my values from my parents. My father was a World War II veteran. My mother spent agonizing months at home after his plane was shot down. My father survived, thanks to the courage of the French Resistance.

While I was growing up, I went to many demonstrations with my parents and stood with them on many picket lines. They were peace activists during the Vietnam war. My parents did not believe that what our government was doing in Vietnam was in any way consistent with what my father had fought for in World War II. Throughout their lives, my parents continued to work for peace and for the democratic rights of all peoples.

During my own years as an activist, many civilians in different parts of the world lost their lives as a direct result of our government's policies. Throughout the cold war years, our government backed dictatorships in numerous parts of the world that brutally suppressed human rights in the name of anti-communism. This is what I spoke about to the Select Board on Sept. 10. The contents of the harassing messages would seem ludicrous to me, if they were not so scary.

At the advice of two Select Board members, I talked to the chief of police on Sept. 13 about the harassment I was receiving. They were very kind, very professional, and I feel confident of the safety of my family and neighbors. The police advised me not to respond to the messages, although I felt a strong desire to defend myself and set the record straight.

Not all of the callers were hateful. One local caller left his name and number and asked for a call back. I felt that I had to return this call. We talked, not a comfortable conversation, but I believe a good one. Partly we compared experiences of different of our family members who had served in the U.S. armed forces and what the flag meant to them.

Similarly, there were many veterans who are Amherst residents who were at the Select Board Meeting who spoke very sensibly and movingly about what the flag means to them. If the discussion had included only local voices, it probably would have been a typical public meeting in the town of Amherst: a wide range of opinions, feelings, and analysis are presented in an atmosphere in which everyone's right to present their view is respected. In Amherst, we have learned to be tolerant of each other's attempts to speak, to work to understand other people's points of view, and then figure out how to compromise and run a great town.

Let's keep it up. In fact, maybe we should spread this strategy around a little more.

Jennie Traschen is an associate professor of physics at UMass.

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