Editor’s note: Sharyn Bloudoff, an 11th grader with Castle School (home school) and daughter of Dean and Sharyle Bloudoff was the first place winner in the high school division of the National Flag Day Foundation’s 2011 essay contest “What Our Flag Means to Me.” The following is her winning essay:

As the music begins, the people stand and a piece of cloth is raised. Some cry. Others stand proud with hands over hearts. However, there are some who do nothing. No tears, no joy, no pride, only repeating the words that they’ve been taught from birth to sing, “…and the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night, that our flag was still there…” The flag, our country’s flag, means nothing to them. I was one of those people. Don’t mistake apathy for the flag as apathy for my country; I, even at a young age, was proud to call myself an American. But can one really revere one’s country if they do not also respect their countries flag?

I can remember being young and reciting the “Pledge of Allegiance” in school, rushing through it to get to story time. Then when I was in second grade, my parents took me out of public school and started home schooling me. Since we didn’t have a flag raised in our living room, the “Pledge of Allegiance” was forgotten for a time. I began to wonder at the usefulness of the Pledge, if it was just something you said but didn’t really mean, what was the point? I was in Kindergarten when I first said the Pledge, I didn’t know what indivisible meant or understand the phrase “and to the republic for which it stands…” Being only seven when reflecting on these musings, I was unaware of the meaning behind the words.

I was in second grade, still in school, on September 11, 2001. I didn’t understand what happened that day, didn’t understand that thousands of people died, didn’t understand the hatred those terrorists felt for my country, didn’t understand why my Mom cried and why my teacher was scared. No one told me that because of what happened in Washington, DC, Pennsylvania, New York, we would enter into a war across the seas. No one explained that because of this invasion, our country would be forever changed. I was seven, too young to understand the events of that day, worrying only about who I was going to play with at recess.

I’m older now, a junior in high school. My interests, my faith, and my knowledge in politics have changed since that fateful day nine years ago. I understand why those planes were hijacked by terrorists and flown into buildings. I understand why people nine years ago were praying and putting up flags everywhere. I now understand what the flag means. What I don’t understand is what changed since then? Now everyone is more interested in who’s going to be the next idol or what Justin Bieber is doing with his hair than what is happening in our country. The renewed faith that everyone seemingly wore after that fateful September appears to have been taken off and shoved into a drawer. Once proud Americans refuse to acknowledge the bloodshed for our country and the heroic veterans still in the midst of war are ignored. The stars and stripes will continue to hang limply in the air if there is no patriotism to wave it freely.

How long will our country last if no one will wave our flag? Our once indivisible nation is being divided into camps of liberals and camps of conservatives. Democrats and Republicans. Donkeys and Elephants. Blue and Red. The republic we used to stand for is slowly becoming an aristocracy, the common people and the politicians. No one cares what is happening to our country, just who’s going to be dancing on TV that night. Our flag means much to me; it is a symbol of pride to our citizens, envy to our allies, and fear to our enemies. But how long will it last standing alone if no one stands with it? Our flag is still here, but how long will it remain?