Tessa Elizabeth Ann Cook, 16, Liberal Arts and Science Academy High School, Austin, Texas
Tessa Elizabeth Ann Cook, 16, writes that Utah’s new state flag is “more than just fabric.”Credit...Wikimedia
As art connoisseurs worldwide reflect on the cultural masterpieces of 2023, there’s one thing on everyone’s minds: Utah’s legislative agenda.
OK, maybe not. And I know what you’re thinking: “I read reviews for something fun and nonthreatening, not an analysis of intricate state-level policy!” But fear not, because I’m happy to leave that to the experts. Instead, I’m here to propose one of the best works of art of the whole year, signed into law by Governor Spencer Cox on March 21, 2023: the new Utah state flag.
Unlike most flag discussions today — which focus on aspects we should take out, like Confederate symbolism — the old Utah flag wasn’t actively problematic. It was just … meh. Unlike what we do with the flag of my home state, Texas, nobody plastered the old Utah flag on their bumpers, nor could most residents pick it out of any of the two dozen other blue seal-on-a-bedsheet U.S. state flags.
Sure, it had the traditional symbol of business and industry — a beehive — that’s often associated with the Mormon Church, but beyond that, nothing about the old flag represented Utah except the state’s name scrawled across the bottom of the seal, which, in my opinion, is vexillological cheating.
The new flag, however, projects “Utah” even with squinted eyes at a mile’s distance. The beehive symbol remains, but instead of the original navy field, it is mounted inside a hexagon, atop a background of dark red rock, snowy white mountains and a deep blue sky. Everything down to even the number of points of the mountain range has a purpose — in this case, to represent the five Indigenous groups that consider Utah sacred land.
But really, beyond what the flag’s individual aspects represent, it is the initiative and motivation of Utah’s people that makes this new flag process impressive to me. There is not much that unites us Americans anymore, and although there was, naturally, some pushback against the change, Utahans needed a strong symbol to identify themselves and their communities, and so they went out and found one. It seems to be rare that Americans are willing to voluntarily work together in the name of unity, especially when it comes to breaking from tradition, like we’ve seen during voting expansion debates and gun control attempts. America was created around the idea of a “more perfect union,” yet when I look at the chaos of climate policy, international conflicts and domestic terrorism in recent years, the current American plan looks more like damage control than active improvement.
Utah’s new flag is more than just fabric; it’s our opportunity to turn the tide back toward progress, and a chance for America to be reborn.
