In today’s political climate, it can be difficult to tell what someone truly stands for. Boulder High recently held a “spirit week” leading up to the homecoming dance, a long-standing tradition meant to promote community and school pride. Friday’s theme, “Freedom Friday” (a USA theme), stood out as the day with by far the most participation, myself included.

At first, I thought nothing of dressing up for a country I haven’t always felt proud of lately. But as the day went on,  more and more students began leaning into displays that felt less like lighthearted patriotism and more like overly American, conservative values. In our most recent PTV video, students were screaming “USA” into the camera, and at the school rally, “Proud to Be an American” blasted from the loudspeaker while students danced around wrapped in American flags. This felt unusual for Boulder, a city with a reputation for its liberal leanings, often quick to dismiss or even reject overtly “Republican” expressions of patriotism. Yet in the backdrop of recent political tension–from the assassination of Charlie Kirk, spiking gun violence, to a complete government shutdown–it felt strange to see Boulder so openly enthusiastic about “freedom.”

It became difficult to tell whether this was simply a united love for the country, a sarcastic or playful take on Americana, or a signal of something deeper: the rise of a new wave of conservatism among young people.

Many Boulder students chose not to dress up for Freedom Friday, arguing they were not proud of the country. Others suggested that American spirit shouldn’t automatically equate to Republican support, emphasizing that Democrats can celebrate the country without endorsing its current state.

I believe this newfound patriotism among Gen-Z can be traced back to 2020. During the peak of the pandemic, most of us were glued to screens, especially TikTok, where many of my peers were immersed in political debates and left-leaning discourse. The 2020–2021 election cycle, combined with the stresses of the pandemic (lost jobs, economic decline, and rising mental health struggles) created a generation hyper-aware of politics. At the time, left-leaning views were more popular, and students rarely expressed overt conservatism with each other.

Now, looking back, many reflect on that period, speaking about their “emo” phases, extreme political eras, and online activism, with a sense of regret or amusement. TikTok trends, like posting photos from 2020 alongside polished, “normal” selfies, highlight this generational reflection. Meanwhile, the larger media has embraced new conservative aesthetics: the Sydney Sweeney “good genes” jeans campaign and the “Trad-Wife” TikTok trend would have been unthinkable just a few years ago.

This isn’t the first time conservatism has surged among young people. As Mark Twain once said, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.” In the United States, the “New Right” emerged in the 1960s and 1970s in response to post–New Deal liberal policies, the cultural unrest of the 1960s, and a perceived decline in traditional values. Popular media and societal norms at the time reinforced idealized family values and suburban life, emphasizing conformity and “picture-perfect” households, a type of America that many conservatives wanted to protect. Today’s new conservatism has evolved, emphasizing cultural issues, opposition to “woke” ideology, and youth engagement through social media. Just as the New Right gained momentum by appealing to the youth and cultural anxieties, the current generation is rediscovering conservatism through social media trends and local expressions of patriotism.

Whether Freedom Friday was a trend or a turning point, one thing is clear: patriotism is being redefined. For our generation, the American flag might represent protest just as much as pride, and that says more about Gen Z than any political label ever could.