I’m always fascinated by the way people express themselves in their front yards. Not necessarily through their trees and flowers and bird feeders and such – though I love that stuff – but through the signs and symbols they post throughout the year.
I’m a walking fanatic – I do about five miles every morning, typically around my own neighborhood – so I have ample opportunity to observe this phenomenon, especially during the change of seasons.
With autumn on the way, the fall flags are coming out, and I’m here for it! Sure, I might be slogging through 85-degree humidity, but that festive cornucopia banner, in harvest hues of burnt orange and gold, urges me on with the promise of better days ahead.
The football flags are suddenly making the scene, as well. Mostly Carolina and Clemson, of course. They warm my heart with their all-American goodness. Every morning, I get a special kick out of a Clemson flag around the corner, featuring the iconic tiger paw on a background of stars and stripes. Go Tigers and God Bless America!
For a while, there were plenty of Ukrainian flags flying in our neighborhood, but I only see them on a couple of houses now. And both those houses have actual Ukrainians living in them. As vibes shift, so do front yards.
I guess that makes for a decent segue into the touchy subject of political signage. Because fall is not the only season currently creeping into our yards. Election season is also upon us. All the signs are there.
Four years ago, I opined on this very topic:
“I’m old enough to remember a time in this country when politics felt more like a friendly rivalry than a death match. Seeing yard signs in the neighborhood was exciting – a reminder of our vigorous, healthy democracy – and election season was fun. In my Alabama childhood, Republicans and Democrats were kind of like ‘Bama and Auburn fans; they pulled hard for their respective teams, but at the end of the game, they shook hands, grabbed another beer, and fired up the grill together.”
I don’t know about you, but election season hasn’t felt that way to me in a long time. How I long to reclaim that feeling.
Last week, I was talking with a good friend who lives a few blocks from me. She said she really wants to put a Harris/Walz sign in her yard, but with several Trump signs on her street, she’s reticent for fear of offending her neighbors.
I get that. Oh, do I ever. And I truly appreciate the sentiment. But my advice to her was as follows: Put the damn sign in your yard.
I said this, not because my friend’s Trump-voting neighbors clearly aren’t worried about offending her – though there’s something to that – but because not putting that sign in her yard is a kind of self-censorship that, however well-intentioned, is ultimately not that helpful.
I didn’t always feel this way. In fact, I’ve changed my mind about yard signs since writing the aforementioned piece in 2020.
In that column, I wrote about the myriad ways social media had changed election season, how virtual reality had spilled over into our neighborhoods, making me queasy at the sight of these signs. Back then, I wrote:
“By now, most partisans have heard what folks on the ‘other team’ think of them – in no uncertain terms, ad nauseam – and I don’t see that it’s done our union any good. So, what does any of this have to do with yard signs? Well, it’s one thing to know that your virtual neighbors see you as one of the ‘bad guys’ because of your politics. It’s quite another to receive that message – in big, bold print – from your actual neighbors. In today’s America, you can be fairly certain that your yard sign feels like fightin’ words – even a slap in the face – to at least some of your neighbors, whether you mean it that way or not.”
I wish this weren’t true, but I believe it is. Possibly even more so now than in 2020.
And still, I encouraged my friend to post her campaign sign. Why? Because I don’t want to accept this state of affairs. I don’t want an America where we’re all politely refraining from expressing our beliefs. I want an America where we’re all expressing our beliefs . . . more politely.
And let’s face it – a campaign yard sign is pretty polite. It might “get in your face” a bit, but it doesn’t yell or throw things or insult you in any way.
My friend is a passionate, lifelong progressive. A true believer. Her politics are a big part of who she is. Not posting a campaign sign would be just as out of character for her as posting a campaign sign would be for me, a conflicted, cynical centrist.
I want an America where I’m free to be me, and she’s free to be she – okay, that’s bad grammar, but I like the rhyme – and we can still be good neighbors and even good friends. Where people can express themselves in their own front yards – politely – without fear of damaging relationships or being drummed out of the homeowner’s association.
(Not that we have one of those in Pigeon Point, thank goodness!)
To me, campaign signs are old school. They feel . . . normal. They harken back to the time I mentioned above, when election season was fun. Spirited but friendly. Good-natured. All-American.
A simple expression of support for your candidate is a positive thing. In a perfect world, it shouldn’t be offensive to anybody. Granted, we don’t live in a perfect world. We live in a world with social media, where cruel, dehumanizing commentary proliferates and poisons our political discourse – not to mention our feelings toward one another.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. We can change the way we speak to each other – and about each other – on social media. We don’t have join a mob or a pile-on or a “discussion” that’s more like a vicious gossip session in some high school cafeteria from hell. We can disagree without disemboweling. All it takes is one person – and then another, and then another – deciding we’re fed up. Let’s start a movement! There’s a better way to do election season. I remember it.
Maybe it’s just pie-in-the-sky – or plain ol’ nostalgia – but these days I find myself longing for a world with fewer internet memes and more yard signs.
There’s one down the street that makes me smile every morning on my walk. A lovely little banner, surrounded by flowers, that reads, simply, “Welcome.”
