Standing for the Anthem

My wife and I go to sporting events at the university where I work. Each one starts with a playing of the national anthem, after the announcer says we should stand and, among other things, show respect for the people who defend our nation.

Our anthem is not a military anthem. As a military brat, I learned to stand when it is played. But not for our military. I stood because military brats stand for the anthem.

The announcer also says we should place our hands over our hearts. I don't do that either. The hand-over-heart is called the "civilian salute." As a military brat, I know that there is no civilian salute. That's part of what it means to have a country where the military is under civilian control: there is no paramilitary regimen that the civilians must obey. Further, the salute is a military privilege. Civilians aren't entitled to it. So I don't do it.

I do stand. When the music ends, I blow a kiss and give a short military salute to the sky. (As it happens, I have a DD-214, so I actually can salute in this context, under the silly law Republicans passed to make it look like the flag is some kind of sacramental object.) But I do this to thank my mom, and honor my dad, who was a lifetime military officer.

Yes, I do stand for the anthem. Not for the nation I have loved. Not for our fighters who defend it. I stand for the memory of who my parents raised me to be. I am a military brat. We stand.