Frances Scott Key, author of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” our national anthem, was a dyed-in-the-wool racist. He opined that “Negroes” were a “distinct and inferior race.” He was a slaveholder from a family of slaveholders who influenced the odious seventh President Andrew Jackson to appoint Roger B. Taney, the author of the Dred Scott decision (“Blacks have no rights that whites are bound to respect”) to the U.S. Supreme Court.

When I hear the words, “land of the free, home of the brave,” I think, “land of the thief, home of the slave.” As early as 1836, abolitionists were mocking the song, taking that offensive line and recasting it as “the land of the free, home of the oppressed.”

When you delve into the lyrics, Mr. Key’s utter contempt for Black people was apparent. But the Daughters of the Confederacy—surprise, surprise—were among those who thought this slave-deriding song should be our national anthem. In doing so, they ensured that generations of schoolchildren would never learn the truth about the hypocrisy of their country, fighting for freedom against the Brits while also fighting for the right to deny others freedom.

When Gwen Berry, the African-American athlete who has qualified for the Summer Olympics in Tokyo, turned her back on the American flag while the troublesome national anthem was playing, she invited criticism for her actions and the paradox of the African-American reality in this nation.

Ms. Berry said, “The anthem doesn’t speak for me,” giving voice to the ambivalence that so many African-American people feel about this nation. We are disgusted by the injustice and hypocrisy woven into every fabric of our lives, even as we experience and enjoy aspects of progress and opportunity that distinguish our lives from those of our enslaved foremothers and forefathers.

Ms. Berry turned her back and covered her face with a T-shirt that said “Activist athlete” in the spirit of Frederick Douglass, who famously asked what the Fourth of July (the Fourth of You Lie) could mean to the Negro.

Generations have been taught “The Star-Spangled Banner” without understanding its author or the meaning of its lyrics. That the Daughters of the Confederacy championed it ought to say enough. Since their inception in 1894, those women have been determined to embrace the Southern “Lost Cause.” Historically openly racist, they endorsed the Ku Klux Klan at their 1919 convention.

Their headquarters in Richmond, Va., the cradle of the confederacy, was damaged by fire last year as people protested the murder of George Floyd at the knee of Derek Chauvin. Their ideology ought to be equally incinerated.

While many opposed the national anthem, Woodrow Wilson, whose own racial views were questionable, embraced the anthem. Still, it was not made official until the passage of HR 14 in 1929. Before that, “America the Beautiful” (“Oh beautiful, for gracious skies”) was considered the national anthem. The Ray Charles rendition, and his struggles to sing it in Georgia, are more impactful emblems of “America” than the lyrics of a slaveholder could ever be.

Ms. Berry said the anthem did not speak for her, but it still seems to speak for so many of our fellow citizens who mindlessly sing racist lyrics penned by a slaveholding man. As long as this is our international calling card, so long as this is the music that accompanies our athletic victories, we tell our Black athletes that they are valued for their athleticism, but not for their lives and for the injustices they experience. To force someone to stand up and listen to that nonsense is to shove patriotism down the throats of those who feel somewhat less than patriotic.

Ms. Berry is one of a long line of activist athletes. She deserves applause, not approbation. She says “The Star-Spangled Banner” doesn’t speak for her. It doesn’t speak for me either.

The writer is an economist, author and dean of the College of Ethnic Studies at California State University at Los Angeles.