what's good : anthems
A selection with representation
When I taught US History, in the dedicated subject classes but also in my literature courses, we focused on these questions: Who’s telling the story? Whose voice is missing? What were the benefits & costs involved? This helped us go beyond the typical [white/European/cis/straight/male] stories that have been published & passed down for decades and understand situations from other points of view. To that end, each quarter I began & ended with an historical performance of the National Anthem. At the start of the school year, we discussed what America means to each of us (after identifying who “we” were), what is the purpose of a national anthem, and how it could possibly represent all Americans. We talked about our country’s choice of anthem and who wrote it + when [not during the Revolution] and why. Then we watched different [often missing1] voices perform The Star Spangled Banner as well as Lift Every Voice and Sing, the Black National Anthem that is now also included at the start of many public events. As a bonus reflection, we also brought in Native American commentary, which [of course] was banned on a number of radio stations across the country when it was released.
Here’s to knowing where we’ve come from, so we can better see where to go next.
In poetry: I didn’t use this one in my classes though I wish I had - it perfectly addresses the imagery our anthem has chosen to represent us (rockets, bombs, a flag) and says out loud the truth we all know in the back of our minds: …every song of this country/has an unsung third stanza, something brutal/snaking underneath us as we blindly sing…. Though Ada Limón also softens to the positive, hopeful symbolism of that flag: I do/ like the flag, how it undulates in the wind/like water, elemental, and best when it’s humbled,/brought to its knees, clung to by someone who/has lost everything, when it’s not a weapon…. I think it’s safe & reasonable to say we want to love our nation in spite of its ugly history, that there are beautiful things we’ve created here; if only we could better live her last three lines.
A New National Anthem by Ada Limón The truth is, I’ve never cared for the National Anthem. If you think about it, it’s not a good song. Too high for most of us with “the rockets red glare” and then there are the bombs. (Always, always, there is war and bombs.) Once, I sang it at homecoming and threw even the tenacious high school band off key. But the song didn’t mean anything, just a call to the field, something to get through before the pummeling of youth. And what of the stanzas we never sing, the third that mentions “no refuge could save the hireling and the slave”? Perhaps, the truth is, every song of this country has an unsung third stanza, something brutal snaking underneath us as we blindly sing the high notes with a beer sloshing in the stands hoping our team wins. Don’t get me wrong, I do like the flag, how it undulates in the wind like water, elemental, and best when it’s humbled, brought to its knees, clung to by someone who has lost everything, when it’s not a weapon, when it flickers, when it folds up so perfectly you can keep it until it’s needed, until you can love it again, until the song in your mouth feels like sustenance, a song where the notes are sung by even the ageless woods, the short-grass plains, the Red River Gorge, the fistful of land left unpoisoned, that song that’s our birthright, that’s sung in silence when it’s too hard to go on, that sounds like someone’s rough fingers weaving into another’s, that sounds like a match being lit in an endless cave, the song that says my bones are your bones, and your bones are my bones, and isn’t that enough?
In music + history: I used Jimi Hendrix as our first listen to an unconventional version of The Star-Spangled Banner because I think it’s one of the most spectacular performances of a difficult & messy song. Also, it is a solid measure of how people feel about the anthem: is it sacred, to be kept in its original form, or changeable, to reflect the artist and time? A lot of my teen students initially had a negative reaction to Hendrix’s loud, jarring guitar riffs - they said they couldn’t follow the song as he played; they didn’t like it without the lyrics; it felt disrespectful; there was a confusing tune change toward the end. We discussed the context and timeline of Woodstock; reasons for the deliberate sound choices; Hendrix’s military background; and that ‘different tune’ he included (listen carefully at 2:50 in the video). To me, this is a stunning musical version of James Baldwin’s quote:
“I love America more than any other country in this world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.”
from Notes of a Native Son (1955)
In that same Art in History lesson, we examined Redbone’s We Were All Wounded At Wounded Knee. Lead singers/brothers Pat & Lolly Vegas-Vasquez were inspired by Jimi Hendrix to form their band; their commitment to mixing entertainment with history + feeling was a tribute to him. Pause the opening of this video to read through the details of the 1890 Wounded Knee massacre, and know that the occupation of that site by Oglala Lakota & AIM members occured shortly before this song was released in 1973. Listen for the subtle lyric switch at the end.
After the Super Bowl in 2023, I shared this video of Academy Award winner Troy Kotsur’s ASL performance of the anthem. Our class watched first hearing Chris Stapleton singing and then again in silence to thoroughly absorb how Kotsur visually captures what we, like Limón in her poem, hope for in a truly free country.
For something completely different, we ended our school year with Marvin Gaye’s funky soul version at the NBA All-Star Game in 1983. All of the videos available are pretty blurry but you can still see the utter joy the audience and players are feeling as Gaye made The Star-Spangled Banner his own. Who knew it could be so smooth & sexy?
In poetry + music + art + music: First came the poem/song “Lift Every Voice and Sing”, a tribute to Abraham Lincoln written in 1900 by NAACP leader James Weldon Johnson and composed by his brother J. Rosamund Johnson. Then in 1939 artist Augusta Savage designed a sculpture for the New York World’s Fair based on Johnson’s work, though organizers renamed it “The Harp.” Despite its praise and popularity - postcards and miniature replicas sold well - the sculpture was destroyed after the event closed in 1940 because there was no funding to store or cast it in bronze for moving. Miami artist 2Alas (Andrew Antonaccio) created a mural of “The Harp” on Hogan Street in Jacksonville, Florida, and the city is looking at adding a sculpture to the James Weldon Johnson park in her honor; additionally, an historical marker was erected in Savage’s hometown of Green Cove Springs.
While we still wait, here is a glorious rendition of the Black National Anthem originally performed by Alicia Keys at the start of the 2020 NFL season and rebroadcast at Super Bowl LV in February 2021. While it wasn’t part of either live ceremony due to COVID-19 restrictions, it was a powerful & poignant addition.
Sing the national anthem of your choosing - a drinking song or a warning message or an ode to your ancestors’ survival - in a way that speaks to your heart and your hopes, but without forgetting or abetting our troublesome past. I think only a song “that sounds like a match being lit/in an endless cave” is our only means forward.
Women, BIPOC, people with disabilities, LGBTQ+, immigrants, not Christian, all of the above…
This is a fantastic way to spark these discussions.