A lifetime with the pledge

My personal history with the Pledge of Allegiance goes back to 1946. When I was a kid growing up in Pennsylvania we said the Lord's Prayer in public school every day followed by a recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance standing with hands over hearts facing the flag. In 1954 the words "under God" were inserted at the behest of the Knights of Columbus then riding a patriotic tsunami called McCarthyism amidst a war to the death with "Atheistic Communism."

The new words did not find their way to Swarthmore High School until the first day of school in 1956. On that day there was new kid in my homeroom. Our teacher began by explaining that the Pledge of Allegiance had been changed by an act of Congress. After the familiar words, "one nation" two new words, "under God," had been inserted. This came as a complete surprise to me. It was a clear violation of the separation of church and state. Did you have to believe in God to be an American? As this and other half-formed irreverent thoughts bounced around in my head I heard an unfamiliar voice calling for recognition from the back of the classroom.

It was the new kid. Our teacher looked down at his class list. He must have made a mark by the new kid's name because he quickly said, "Yes, Jim." And from Jim came this thunderbolt: "Suppose you don't believe in God?"

Our teacher was stupefied. The homeroom was in an uproar. Shock and disbelief. I whirled around in my seat and gave Jim the high sign: tip of thumb and forefinger touching to make an 'O' shape.

Meanwhile, our teacher, like any good politician, managed to avoid answering Jim's question. Then we were instructed to rise and repeat the pledge inserting the new words for the first time. I skipped over the new words: "Let the others say 'under God' all they want. I'll never say them as long as I live!"

Twelve years later, I became a high school history teacher in Chappaqua, N.Y. During my second year, I had a student in my homeroom with a wicked sense of humor. After the words "with liberty and justice for all," he would exclaim, for all to hear, two words of his own: "white people." I felt fairly confident that he was not a white supremacist making a racist remark. Additionally, I thought he might have a legal right to say "white people" since the pledge had ended. (Later I learned he was a liberal-minded kid making a sarcastic comment. He became a Buddhist monk.)

Then I learned from a history department colleague about the 1943 Supreme Court case, Barnette v. West Virginia. I read Justice Jackson's 7-2 majority opinion upholding the right of the Barnette kids not to have to say the pledge and was elated. The next day I explained to my homeroom that they didn't have to say the pledge if they didn't want to. They could remain seated. However, they could not disrupt the proceedings. Most of the kids soon opted out. Every year thereafter on the first day of school I taught my new homeroom a mini-lesson on the Barnette case. A few years later my daughter was kicked out of her homeroom (in the same school) for defending the right of an Italian national not to say the pledge.

The Barnette case notwithstanding, 99 percent of the teachers in my school either didn't know about it or would not have mentioned it for fear of making waves. Despite tenure, public school teachers tend to be constitutionally gutless as well Constitutionally illiterate. Explaining to kids that they have rights can lead to trouble, after all.

As legally opting-out of the pledge spread, I was pleased, but concerned at the same time. In many homerooms, kids who didn't recite the pledge often jabbered disrespectfully during it. And a new minority was being created: pledge-sayers.

So I went to the principal and suggested we institute pledge and non-pledge homerooms — like smoking and nonsmoking sections on airplanes back then. Those kids who wanted to say the pledge could be assigned to pledge homerooms, those who didn't to non-pledge homerooms. No one would be needlessly "minority-ized." He refused to take me seriously. High school principals are like high school teachers only more wary on all questions of student rights.

Michael Newdow is right: The words "under God" do constitute a public endorsement of religion. It is a daily in-your-face slap to all of those kids who either disbelieve in God or think you should have a right to as an American.

If the Supreme Court rules in 2004 that kids have a right to remain silent during the words "under God," I know what will happen in the classrooms of America. Exactly what happened after the Barnette ruling in 1943: absolutely nothing.