I’m not one for performative patriotism.

But recently, I’ve had a lot of thoughts about a performance of the National Anthem I saw.

It was before the start of a Mets game at Citi Field in New York. The day was chilly – the temperature never rose above 47 degrees. At least it was sunny – I sat close to the field and the  sun beating down helped keep things comfortable.

On an aesthetic level, I’ve never been a big fan of “The Star Spangled Banner.” My argument boils down to this – the nation that produced George Gershwin, Duke Ellington, Carole King and Stevie Wonder should not be represented by a Maryland lawyer’s poem sung to the tune of a British drinking song.

The song is hard to sing. It’s a so-so message. And, in the dumb way the United States seems to think of patriotism, it’s about a flag.

(Getting hung up on the flag is also the problem with the Pledge Of Allegiance. That’s a topic for another time.)

Another issue is that the government of the United States has not inspired any fervent love since, oh, noon ET on January 20. The inanity of Trumpism clouds every decent day and exacerbates the lousy ones.

This was particularly true when this anthem was performed. It was five days after the Mets’ home opener against the Toronto Blue Jays, the only Major League Baseball team that makes its home outside this country.

Until 2025, no one gave much thought to the rendition of “O Canada” when a Canadian team showed up in a U.S. stadium. But then Trump, not content with taking a dump on the rest of the world, decided to pick on the best neighbor any country has ever had.

That led to the boos from about a tenth of the crowd. Forget that some young woman is performing before 40,000 people and hearing disdain from about 4,000 people. She’s doing her best, but, yeah, boo anyway. 

I wasn’t shocked by this. But I was not going to follow that wretched display by singing “The Star Spangled Banner” with these slugs. 

So I found what I thought was appropriate- bowing my head as if this were a moment of silence, in memory of what we as Americans have lost because of this stupidity. (It also made me respect, all the more, what Colin Kaepernick did by kneeling – had I stronger knees, I might have thought about it.)

Fast forward five days. It’s only going to be the U.S. anthem at the game on the cold day because the Mets were playing Miami. I get up, remove my hat and bow my head.

And then I hear the anthem.

It was performed by a chorus of students from the Celia Cruz Bronx High School of Music. It is one of the special high schools in the New York City public school system – you need to go through an audition process to get in.

And, for the few who don’t know, it’s named for one of the most influential Latin musicians in U.S.  history. She left Cuba shortly after the revolution and made great music with another renowned Hispanic artist, Tito Puente. Her influence was such that, if you look in your loose change, you might have the quarter with her image that came out last year.

The chorus performed a capella. You had to think about that, because the harmonies created were so lush that they seemed like an orchestra.

What was striking was that these students – from all over New York City and most, but not all of them, kids of color – were putting incredible passion into this rendition. Maybe it was because they wanted to impress thousands of people hearing them. 

But that kind of performance requires more than showing off your musical chops. It was as if they believed they were honoring their home with the magic of their combination. There was commitment to their vocalizing. 

When the National Anthem is performed at a baseball game, it’s pretty pro forma. As the singer finally gets to the last lines – “O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave…” – the crowd usually starts cheering, almost as if to rush things along and get the game started.

Not this time. The crowd didn’t want to miss the end. They didn’t start cheering until the chorus was finished. And it erupted. It was as if we heard this song that we’d heard more times than we can count for the first time ever.

I wasn’t expecting to be stirred by a song I don’t like. But I was – and I’ll tell you why.

Those kids aren’t what Trump and the livestock that support him have in mind about making America great again. And I’m sure the worst of them – Trump included – would never appreciate the care and devotion the Celia Cruz chorus put into the song. They would prefer you stand there listening to some band go through the motions. 

But the students are what truly makes America great. Their backgrounds are varied and fascinating. When they came together that chilly afternoon, they made a sound that haunted and inspired.

I will still bow my head for “The Star Spangled Banner” in sadness until this idiocy ends or it destroys me, whichever comes first. But as long as I can, I will fight for a country that includes and celebrates diversity, equity and inclusion – and understands that a mosaic is a far more interesting and wondrous work of art than a whitewash.

And, if Taylor Swift or Beyoncé can write a better anthem, please go at it.