<\/a><\/p>\n

You remember it. You know you do. Every morning, at 9am sharp. Standing. Hat off. Left arm, stiff at your side. Right hand resting on heart \u2013 reluctantly. All together now:<\/p>\n

“I\u00a0pledge allegiance\u00a0to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”<\/em><\/p>\n

There came a time in my elementary school life, when this routine incantation became unbearable to perform. Naturally, this sudden sourness coincided with the election of George W. Bush, and his subsequent invasions and monstrosities. As we approach our first President\u2019s Day under Donald Trump, I imagine school kids everywhere are experiencing a similar sourness during the assemblies leading up to the national holiday, the songs and pageantries one has to perform in public school, K-12.<\/p>\n

During these morning customs, I mainly recall feeling so disillusioned with what felt like a national disease; I couldn\u2019t bring myself to touch my heart and recite the Pledge \u2013 let alone stand up. The religious overtones of the poem always made me uncomfortable anyway, so I remained seated instead, fixing my gaze on the floor.<\/p>\n

This did not go over well.<\/p>\n

I lived in a small Republican lumber town \u2013 a town of many Carhart jumpsuits, many <\/em>pickup trucks and several conservative teachers. What were the latter to do with their blue-haired, straight-A student who, by pleading the First Amendment, wasn\u2019t actually <\/em>breaking any rules? I relished in their visible frustration when they were unable punish me. They couldn\u2019t even win outside of the classroom, as they knew calling my parents would amount to jack shit.<\/p>\n

I was lucky enough to have parents who intrinsically distrusted institutional authority \u2013 or any authority for that matter. These were parents who routinely arranged \u201chookie\u201d days to take me to the zoo, or on a ferry ride, or any of the multitudinous activities more educational and interesting than grade school. My political idealism was the least of their concerns; my dad admired it, and my mom was just happy I wasn\u2019t injecting drugs. It was a win-win situation.<\/p>\n

Years on, I can sift through all of the mornings, all of the assemblies and pep rallies I sat through, firmly planted on bleachers during the Pledge, the National Anthem, and that cruel excuse for a song, \u201cGod Bless The USA\u201d by Lee Greenwood.\u00a0Perhaps you were of the lucky lot whose school did not require its students to stand and, hand on heart, sing the putrid, nationalistic, country-crossover, garbage heap of a \u201csong\u201d that is \u201cGod Bless the USA.\u201d I suspect that everyone in my graduating year could deliver its lyrics with rapid snaps of deeply ingrained memory at its opening chords.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf tomorrow all the things were gone\/I\u2019d worked for all my life\/And I had to start again\/With just my children and my wife\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Ok, this is already getting problematic for a crowd of school children to be singing.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d thank my lucky stars\/To be living here today\/Cause the flag still stands for freedom\/And they can\u2019t take that away.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Who the fuck are they<\/em>? This song was written in 1992. Somehow within seconds Lee Greenwood had married off and impregnated an entire gymnasium full of children, and put the paranoid words \u201cthey<\/em><\/strong> can\u2019t take that away<\/em>\u201d into our tiny mouths. That\u2019s creepy. It was a song that sounded born of wartime \u2013 where any one of us could be shipped off to the battlefield to fight \u201cthem<\/em><\/strong>,<\/em>\u201d and we would never see our Beanie Babies again. Looking back, it was absurd to make a school full of elementary students sing this. A rhyme reciting the Constitution or the Bill of Rights might have proven more useful.<\/p>\n

What strikes me most when revisiting these memories isn\u2019t the immense satisfaction I felt while refusing to stand, or the disgust with singing Lee Greenwood\u2019s song\u2026especially that chorus:<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m proud to be an American\/Where at least I know I\u2019m free\/And I won\u2019t forget the men who died\/Who gave that right to me\/And I gladly stand up\/Next to you and defend her still today\/Cause there ain\u2019t no doubt I love this land\/God bless the USA.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n

What really bugs me is that despite my efforts to resist, despite my repulsion with these mandatory rituals, these songs and pledges and poems have been effectively lodged into my psyche forever. I will never be able to reclaim the chunk of brain tissue \u201cGod Bless the USA\u201d has set up camp on forever. This is the beauty and the beast of music, however; the bad can be just as memorable as the good\u2026 like sex.<\/p>\n

But what if, in light of our current President, we could sing different songs at our assemblies? There are dozens <\/em>of songs that have been written about Presidents over the years, and while Mr. Greenwood was one of the chosen musical failures to play Trump\u2019s inauguration, doesn\u2019t a President in 2017 deserve an update? Here are a handful of President-related songs one could modify for public school assemblies nationwide. Or, if you homeschool or pay for private school, use the originals! You\u2019re kids are going to learn the word \u201cfuck\u201d no matter what. I promise.<\/p>\n

Lily Allen, \u201cFuck You\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

There\u2019s nothing I love more than a catchy pop song with cruel lyrics. Lily Allen wrote this for George W. Bush (as she confirmed at a concert in Brazil in 2009), but it works remarkably well as an anti-Trump number.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook inside\/Look inside your tiny mind<\/em>,\u201d chimes Allen. \u201cNow look a bit harder\/Cause we\u2019re so uninspired\/So sick and tired of all the hatred you harbor<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

It\u2019s perfect!<\/p>\n

Grade school modification: Change \u201cfuck you<\/em>\u201d to \u201cfudge you<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n