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World Vexillology Day takes place October 1st. Vexillology is the study of the use, history and symbolism of flags. In full disclosure, I am a vexillologist, so I’ll be celebrating. I have childhood memories of lying on the living room floor with the “F” volume of the World Book Encyclopedia, flipping through the pages of colored plates of historic U.S. flags, state flags and world flags arranged by continent. Of course, along the way, I read Stephen Crane’s The Red Badge of Courage that tells of redemption of a heroic flag bearer. In other words, I was hooked at an early age and haven’t grown out of it.
To be sure, vexillologists can be a finicky and idiosyncratic lot. They congregate in societies like the preeminent North American Vexillological Association (NAVA) that has, for well over five decades, led the field in scholarship and all things flag-relevant from design (there are rules) to conservation. NAVA even has its own anthem and, of course, a flag.
Naturally, any time there’s a new flag run up the pole, it engenders buzz, discussion and critique. Over the course of its history (and to the delight of vexillologists), the LGBTQ community has created a spate of them—several dozen, in fact. All but a few of which are arranged in classic but uninspired horizontally arranged colored stripes. Of the several lesbian flags, one is actually vexillogically appealing. It consists of a lavender field with a double-headed labrys battle axe on a black triangular charge. The battle axe represents the Amazon warriors of Greek lore, and the black triangle refers to the emblem used to identify lesbians in Nazi concentration camps. For a flag enthusiast, the response can’t help but be warm and fuzzy.
Recent Addition
The most recent addition has been dubbed the Progress Pride Flag. Designed by artist Daniel Quasar in 2018, it has recently been raised to the roundly receptive salutes of the LGBTQ community, especially the younger, queer and politically gender conscious. For them, it has become the “mainstream, default symbol of the LGBTQ community.”
To symbolize inclusion, Quasar’s design adds a chevron of colored stripes representing the transgender community and people of color along the flag’s hoist (the flag pole end), a format reminiscent of the Zimbabwean, Palestinian and similar national flags. According to Quasar, the right-facing chevron symbolizes forward progress, and its placement along the hoist indicates more progress needs to be made (perspective would contradict that since, when flying, the chevron’s point faces backward).
The question for any vexillologist is whether or not a flag delivers the message and truly represents the nation or entity it represents. Design aesthetics are another matter. Ideally, a flag complies with both. Otherwise,there are five rules: 1. Keep it simple. 2. Keep it meaningful. 3. Use no more than three colors. 4. Use no lettering or seals. 5. Be distinctive.
Well, two out of five rules broken isn’t the end of the world. To be sure, one result of Quasar’s design, perhaps inadvertent, is the energy created by the chevron’s diagonal lines. However, merely adding the trans and POC colors excludes more than it includes. I can imagine the ire of bisexuals, who feel perpetually maligned anyway, that their shades are absent.
The original Rainbow flag was never exclusive. In fact, in purely symbolic terms, its nature was all-inclusive to begin with. It is also the internationally recognized Pride flag. So, while the Progress Pride flag is an impressive addition to the LGBTQ sea of flags, the grand old Rainbow remains my high-flying flag.
To read more "My LGBTQ POV" columns by Paul Masterson, click here.
