Jessie Lynne Janeshek
First-place Winner 1998
Americanism Essay Contest Valley of Wheeling, West Virginia
1313 Euclid Avenue, Weirton, West Virginia 26062–4320

The flag symbolizes America's determination, perseverance, courage, kindness, and honor.

Determination Is America.
"C'mon, Johnny, you're not going to be able to reach up there. Let me help you." The words are by Johnny's older, and slightly taller, friend who prompts him to stretch farther on his toes and to grip me tightly with his chubby fingers.

"I know I can do it," he pronounces breathlessly, nearly stumbling off the precariously decorated Cub Scout parade float. He fastens me securely to the makeshift wooden flagpole that is the float's centerpiece.

"There," Johnny says, satisfied, "Our float is complete."

"Just in time, too," his friend replies. "They're beginning to line up now."

Johnny's round, freckle-dusted face smiles up at me, and I wave back, encouraged by the summer morning's gentle breeze.
"I knew I could do it." The wind brings me his whispered proclamation. "And I did it all by myself."

Perseverance Is America.
With a lurch, the shiny red pickup truck our float will chase on its endeavor moves forward down the narrow Main Street. People crowd the sidewalks and crane their necks to be the first to herald our arrival, and the patriotic banners strung from telephone pole to telephone pole mirror my colors.

At the door of their corner store, Mr. and Mrs. Kasinski wave, their aged faces aglow, emerging young again. No doubt they are remembering another Independence Day, years past, when they arrived in this nation penniless. They earned a living by performing odd jobs for some of our town's more open-minded residents, people who would take a chance to trust Polish immigrants. They used their rewards to erect a small fruit stand, and their delicious fare sold well. As their business flourished, the acceptance of their distinct culture spread. When the tempest that was the Great Depression ransacked our land, the Kasinskis were the bright spot in the clouds, providing food to those in need before feeding themselves. Perhaps, more importantly, they were optimistic, and they used their own previous troubles as reassurances to everyone, convincing them that "We will all outlast the storm."

Courage Is America.
Reginald Smith sits in his lawn chair at the curb. His walker rests beside him, and he has adorned the large puzzle of steel with red, white, and blue streamers so that it resembles a sort of convoluted firework. He has made use of that walker for many years. As a young soldier, he was wounded serving our nation during the Second World War. As my float approaches, he shows a youngster one of his medals, the Purple Heart he constantly keeps near him. When he sees me, he shifts his balance, and his thin arms shake as he grasps the lawn chair's plastic arms, propping himself up and struggling to stand. When he succeeds, he raises his gray head high and salutes me, his Medal of Honor clutched by a gnarled hand.

H. Lawrence Jones (l.), Superintendent of Ohio County Schools, is welcomed to the annual awards banquet for the Scottish Rite Valley of Wheeling, West Virginia, by Ill. Harold M. Hays, Jr., Personal Representative, Valley of Wheeling. Mr. Jones was the guest speaker for the awards banquet honoring the winners of the 1998 Americanism Essay Contest sponsored by the Brethren of the Valley of Wheeling.

Kindness Is America.
The Cub Scouts aboard my float toss brightly colored candies into the applauding crowd that parallels us on either side. Children good-naturedly race each other to see who can capture each candy the fastest. A particularly appetizing piece hits the concrete, and immediately a young girl and boy sprint in pursuit. The boy trips and then stumbles to the ground, while the girl, far ahead, reaches and claims her prize. She picks it up and turns, her small mouth dropping when she notices the predicament of her peer. She gently helps him up and presses the candy into his palm.

Honor Is America.
When I see the azure ribbon of river, resembling lace along the town's edge, I know that we are approaching Main Street's final block. The long train of celebration halts abruptly, in order to be scrutinized by the judges' knowledgeable gazes.

I know that under the sea of blue hats residing in my shadow are the Cub Scouts, now confident and grateful of the labor they have contributed to our float. Time elapses, and fingers are crossed for luck, little Johnny's among them. The results are tallied, the announcement declared, our float has lost.

"We have not lost!" the troop leader booms. "We have not won a trophy, but with the effort we have put into this, we have gained confidence and self-respect. If you take pride in your accomplishments, you have won. Honor yourself, honor one another!"

The Scouts take these words to heart, and they mingle among those who have received the trophies, complimenting and sincerely congratulating them, knowing the prizes are well deserved.

After the float is unassembled, I am taken home and raised high upon my own flagpole in the town square. I still fly for quite some time, first rippling my stripes in tune with the flow of the river, then watching the town members mingle among themselves enjoying the aroma of their holiday barbecues.

Although I have weathered many brilliant afternoons, the sun's blaze does not dim my scarlet stripes nor pale my dark blue background. Instead, I seem to press against the sun, and, as if it knows of my majesty, the sun's vibrant rays emanate around me like the sparks that remain from "bombs bursting in air."

Then dusk transforms the town square into a purple blur. Johnny and his friend arrive to take me down and fold me with proper ceremony.

I rest now, soothed by the anticipation of tomorrow morning, when I will again be briskly hoisted to watch over those who respect me, those whose souls I warm, whose hearts I cause to swell with pride, whose eyes to which I bring ecstatic tears.

Tomorrow, the breeze will again remind me of the determination, perseverance, courage, kindness, and honor that is America. I represent the highest ideals of liberty, justice, and equal opportunity for all. I am America, and forever will I wave.

Jessie L. Janeshek attends Weir High School, Hancock County, West Virginia. The essay above was reprinted in full in a front-page, color-illustrated article titled "Proud To Be An American" in the July 5, 1998, News–Register of Wheeling, West Virginia. The article, submitted to the Scottish Rite Journal by Ill. C. B. Hall, S.G.I.G. in West Virginia, prominently noted the Scottish Rite contest that prompted Miss Janeshek to write this essay and added: "Janeshek is a firecracker of a student writer who has won about 70 national, state, regional, and local writing contests during her school years. She is currently on a summer tour of Europe organized by her creative writing teacher. Janeshek paid her way on the tour with her winnings from various writing contests." An awards dinner at the Wheeling Scottish Rite Temple (see photo above) honored Janeshek and the other Americanism contest winners.