No Oaths Beneath Flags

There’s been conversation circulating about the Black American Heritage Flag, and more recently, a pledge attached to it. I understand the intention. I always do. Black people have had to fight for visibility, for acknowledgment, for something that says we were here, and we mattered. Symbols often rise from that need.

But symbols are not identity.
And they are certainly not loyalty.

A flag is not who we are. At best, it is something others agree to recognize as pointing toward us. That distinction matters. When a symbol becomes the place where meaning is housed, we quietly hand our center away.

I don’t believe Black people need a sanctioned place beneath a flag in order to be whole, real, or legitimate. We were a people before banners. We survived without emblems. Our continuity has never depended on cloth, colors, or ceremonial language. It has depended on memory, kinship, story, protection, and God.

That’s why I don’t make oaths beneath flags.

Not the Black American Heritage Flag.
Not the American flag.

As a child, I pledged allegiance countless times. Hand over heart. Voice in unison. It was presented as patriotism, but what it really trained was reflex. Repetition without consent. Loyalty before understanding. That is the nature of indoctrination—it feels harmless because it starts early and asks no questions.

As an adult, I had to sit with the discomfort of unlearning that reflex. I realized I don’t owe allegiance to a state of being, a nation, or a symbol that has never fully pledged itself to my protection in return. My loyalty is not abstract. It is relational.

My allegiance is to my family.
To what is familiar.
To my people.

And above all else, my allegiance is to God—and God alone.

Scripture is clear about divided loyalty:

“No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other.” — Matthew 6:24

That verse isn’t just about money. It’s about authority. About where obedience ultimately rests. When we begin to ritualize loyalty to symbols, we risk confusing representation with sovereignty. God does not share allegiance. He never has.

Another reminder sits just as plainly:

“Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help.” — Psalm 146:3

Flags are made by men. Nations are sustained by men. And history has shown—repeatedly—how fragile that trust can be.

This doesn’t mean we can’t acknowledge history. It doesn’t mean we can’t mark time, honor bloodshed, or teach our children where they come from. But remembrance does not require an oath. Respect does not require submission.

Black people have always carried our truth without needing to swear it to anyone.

We don’t need a pledge to validate our existence.
We don’t need ritual loyalty to remember sacrifice.
We don’t need permission to belong to ourselves.

Our allegiance has always been lived, not recited.

And that, to me, is enough.