On September 12th of 2001, I put a small American flag in the back window of my car. Tiny letters spelled out “United We Stand”–a sentiment that had resonances in nearly all reaches of our country.

My tiny display of patriotism was easily overshadowed. Ladders were used to climb into dusty attics, and flags were pulled from their boxes, unrolled, and placed into holders mounted upon walls of houses. Stickers of all shapes and sizes were given away to be stuck on bumpers and windows of cars of all shapes and sizes. Larger flags were flown on the outside of cars–attached by suction cups, or latches that hooked onto window edges. The most dramatic displays were seen on 4-wheel drive vehicles. Huge, life-sized cloth flags lashed somewhere to the cab and flying proudly for everyone to see. Humongous moving testaments to patriotism.

American patriotism was everywhere. It was thick in the very air of our nation. For the first time in years, I had hope for us. My nearly chronic melancholy had set in years ago. Americans were apathetic. We were happy when 30% of our population turned up to vote. Numbers that conjured grade school charts with two columns. One column listed the priviledges of Democracy. The opposing column recorded the responsibilities of Democracy. Voting had been listed as a responsibility–not a priviledge. It was hailed as the cornerstone of Democracy, and yet nearly 70% of us weren’t paying attention that day. Or, perhaps they heard the lesson just fine, and didn’t care.

When I looked around on the day after our tragedy, things genuinely seemed different. Everyone had a flag on their car. There were flags on homes. People were crying, and angry, and everyone wanted to see what they could do. People were scared. Everyone seemed to feel something. Apathy had apparently vanished altogether.

I was hopeful that we, as a nation, would participate again in the discussion about our country. I was hopeful that we would sit around and discuss politics–rather than avoiding that topic and talking about sports, instead. I was hopeful that we would talk about the issues–a behavior that our forefathers envisioned for us. I was hopeful that information would be disbursed to the public, and that the public would take it, discuss, and choose. The flurry of activity was impressive. For the first time in years, our country was brimming with questions–instead of answers.

As the months trudged forward, things started to change. The 4×4 trucks left their flags up day and night. Those flags got wet in the rain, and froze through the nights. The edges became frayed from flapping continuously in the wind–and, they never were replaced, or hemmed, or repaired. The suction cup flags lost their suction, and fell off the cars on freeways, and city streets, and parking lots. Those bumper stickers faded from the sunlight, and some were removed altogether.

What an accurate and terrible symbol those outward displays have become. The patriotism that had been jolted awake, has been lulled back into complacency. It is as if America hit the snooze button on the Patriotism clock and drifted back into some dream.

We still need those feelings of anger, sadness, grief and confusion. Take a look around us. Nothing has been resolved since that tragedy. We have only witnessed wave after wave of finger pointing and in our fervor, we have given our trust at the expense of our constitution and our freedoms.

We still need more questions coming from America. Without all of the information, it is generally NOT recommended to make brash statements, and yet we conitnue. We make edicts and deliver speeches and send signals to other Americans as well as the rest of the world. We are standing high upon our own rickety soap box, reading from the speech we wrote years ago, and quite frankly, even we are not buying it.

And, we need more flags. They don’t have to be ostentatious. They don’t have to be bigger than the flags on other cars, or the flag on your neighbor’s house. But, we need you to put your flag up.

We need you to sew our flag when it is torn. We need you to not let our flag touch the ground. We need you to fold it and store at night–and when it rains. But, most of all, we need that flag to mean something about America. It is a symbol of America and what it means to be from the United States of America–not a piece of cloth.

Our flag is the signature of our work as a nation of freedom-loving people who value human life, protect human rights, and believe that all people are created equal. And, right now, we are using it to sign some pretty bad documents that do not represent me or my values.

Fly our flag. Defend our freedoms. Participate in our country. And, demand more of our politicians and fellow Americans because you will be held accountable for everything that we do.