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Red, White, and Blue vs. Red, Black, and Green: An ADOS Case for American Grounding

5 min readJun 18, 2026

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Grace Wisher, age 13, was an indentured servant who worked alongside Mary Pickersgill to help sew the over-sized flag we know of as The Star Spangled Banner.

This year marked 100 years since the founding of Black History Month’s predecessor, Negro History Week, established in 1926 by Carter G. Woodson. A century later, the mission remains the same: not simply to celebrate Black history, but to place it where it has always belonged — at the center of the American story.

As the United States marks 250 years of existence, it is important to remember that Black history has never been a side narrative. It is America’s story.

That is why the colors most associated with the American identity — red, white, and blue — carry a deeper meaning for the descendants of American slavery.

Not symbolically.
Not “in spirit.”

But in blood.
In labor.
In innovation.
In sacrifice.
In receipts.

🔴 Red: The Cost

Red is the color of sacrifice. And when it comes to the American project, no group has paid more consistently into it than the descendants of American slavery.

ADOS paid in blood during slavery.

We paid in blood during the Civil War, when nearly 200,000 Black soldiers and sailors fought to preserve the Union and end the institution that had bound their people in chains. Their service helped redefine both the war and the meaning of American citizenship itself.

As Abraham Lincoln reflected near the end of the war:

“Until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword…”

We paid again during Reconstruction, when the brief expansion of democracy in the South was met with violent backlash.

We paid through the Jim Crow era, when laws and institutions enforced a racial caste system long after emancipation.

We paid again during the Civil Rights Movement, when ordinary citizens risked their livelihoods, freedom, and lives to bring the country closer to its own ideals.

Even today, the receipts remain visible in wealth disparities, gaps in health outcomes, and uneven investment in communities that helped build the nation’s economic foundation.

So when we see the red in the American flag, we do not see abstraction.

We see the cost.

⚪ White: The Line That Was Drawn

White on the American flag traces back through the nation’s British roots — the same red, white, and blue palette carried from the Union Jack into the early identity of the republic. Traditionally, white has been associated with purity or innocence.

But in the American context, white evolved into something far more structural.

Within the ADOS framework, “white” has functioned less as a phenotypical description and more as a designation of normalcy, belonging, and full civic inclusion. It became the default setting of American citizenship — the category against which everyone else was measured.

And ADOS was deliberately placed outside of it.

Not by accident.

By policy.

Through slavery statutes that defined Black people as property.
Through the Naturalization Act of 1790 limiting citizenship to “free white persons.”
Through Black Codes, Jim Crow laws, redlining maps, FHA underwriting standards, and GI Bill exclusions that helped build the American middle class while systematically routing ADOS families around it.

For generations, “white” in America functioned as the legal and economic fast lane — and ADOS was assigned to the shoulder.

Yet even while being structurally excluded from the full benefits of American belonging, ADOS consistently pushed the country to live up to its stated ideals.

We expanded democracy.
We strengthened the Constitution through struggle.
We made the promise of America more real — even when it was least real for us.

So when we examine the white in the flag, we do not just see a virtue.

We see the line that was drawn — and the unfinished work required to erase it.

🔵 Blue: The Backbone

Blue is often said to represent vigilance, perseverance, and justice.

But blue can also represent something even more foundational to the ADOS story: the water itself.

The oceans define America’s borders and helped sustain the nation’s commerce, expansion, and connection to the world. But for ADOS, the water carries a deeper meaning.

It marks the trajectory that brought our ancestors to these shores.

Across the Atlantic, through the brutal machinery of the transatlantic slave trade, generations of Africans were carried into the making of what would become the United States. That violent passage created a new people with a distinct lineage rooted in this land.

Water, after all, is resilient.

It adapts.
It shifts shape.
It flows around obstacles.

But it remains the same substance.

ADOS has done the same.

Across centuries, descendants of American slavery adapted to changing systems — from slavery to Reconstruction, from Jim Crow to the Civil Rights era, mass incarceration, and beyond. Each era demanded resilience, reinvention, and the ability to navigate new structures.

Yet through every transformation, the lineage and the claim remained the same.

And even while navigating these shifting tides, ADOS repeatedly stepped forward to stabilize the nation itself.

ADOS soldiers served in every American war.
ADOS leaders expanded democracy during Reconstruction.
ADOS organizers and citizens strengthened the Constitution through the Civil Rights Movement.

So when we look at the blue in the American flag, we see more than loyalty.

We see the ocean that carried the origins of our American story.

We see resilience.

And we see a people who, like water itself, adapted to every container history placed before them while continuing to shape the nation that rose from these shores.

Conclusion
There’s a reason ADOS people have a complicated relationship with American symbolism: we know how to read it. The cover of the story reads Betsy Ross, but the work beneath it bears the fingerprints of Grace Wisher — much like America itself, where Black labor, sacrifice, and democratic struggle shaped the nation while often being removed from the credit. For many descendants of slavery, the red, white, and blue were not just the colors of a flag, but the colors carried into Galveston when Gordon Granger arrived on Juneteenth to announce that our ancestors were finally free. That is why ADOS does not see red, white, and blue as abstract colors or empty patriotism. We see red as the cost, white as the shifting line of belonging, and blue as both the waters that carried our story and the republic we helped hold together. And because our claim is rooted in lineage, citizenship, and the unfinished debt owed to descendants of slavery, our focus remains fixed on the American promise — not symbolic detours away from it.

As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, the question is no longer whether ADOS belongs within the American story. History settled that long ago. The real question is whether America is finally prepared to align its symbols with its obligations and deliver justice to the people whose labor, resilience, and struggle helped build the nation itself.

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