Searching for a Sign

I ’ve been waiting for almost six months to see a Biden-Harris yard sign in my neighborhood. Finally one — just one — appeared about two weeks ago. It is large and proud. The homeowners even equipped it with a spotlight, so that it is visible at night.

I’m surprised, because liberal political yard signs have become ubiquitous where I live, in Westchester County, New York. They have long credal statements or pithy slogans. But very few have anything to do with impending elections. I wonder if signs such as this are going to be a part of the local landscaping for the rest of my life. And I suspect they subtly change the character not just of our neighborhood, but of neighborliness itself.

Although the signs’ presence really picked up in the past three and a half years, their appearance started before Donald Trump was elected. The first and still most-popular sign here is a blue one that says, “Hate Has No Home Here.” You’ve probably seen it. There is a heart with an American-flag motif. And the message is repeated in several languages. Arabic, Korean, and Hebrew. Curiously, the second language of the neighborhood, Spanish, is last. This sign was fairly ubiquitous in some streets. There was one block where it appeared in every yard. And I wondered if they’d been offered door-to-door by one activist, or if there had been a precipitating event that caused everyone on the street to put out the sign in a show of solidarity.

A neighbor of mine, with a beautifully kept lawn and garden, has about six different signs right as the grass transitions to her plants: “Black Lives Matter,” “Anyone But Trump,” “In This House We Believe . . .,” etc. (you probably have seen this one).  Another gives thanks to first responders. It’s extremely tasteful, and she’s exactly the kind of neighbor you dream of having. I take her signs as a good reminder that not only are the people who disagree with my politics usually kind and conscientious, but also that they view their politics as an extension of this kindness. They genuinely believe that these signs put the members of marginalized groups in our neighborhood at ease.

But there is a weird asymmetry at work. If there were no signs, my neighbors would meet as people whose politics can only be guessed about, or divined by other lifestyle choices and demographic realities. Crucially, we mostly wouldn’t have a good idea of how important politics was to any one of us. The signs in the yards are almost like markers, set in place to warn others about potential conversational land mines.

The pollsters have been debating all year whether there are shy Trumpers. And, surely, when it comes to the yard-sign game, Trumpers have reason to be shy. There are no Trump signs on the streets near me. Though statistically, there are certainly Trump voters. You’d be inviting trouble if you put one up. They would be vandalized. Or you would get an accusatory note appended to it by your neighbors, huffily explaining your political and moral errors.

But funnily, where there is Trump gear, it’s usually not just one sign. Instead, you see enormous, billboard-sized banners, hanging across front porches, or the entire side of a home. Sometimes with scores of Trump signs, lined up in parade formation, or with similarly enormous American flags. So there are at least some decidedly not-shy Trumpers; they just live on winding country routes.

Politics in a polarized age tempts us to think of our neighbors as potential enemies. I can hear the voice of G. K. Chesterton laughing that God commands us to love our neighbors and enemies, often the very same people. But it takes a contrarian brain, or a really disciplined will, to see the political signs and insignia of the opposing tribe sprouting all around you, and suddenly feel more at ease overall, reassured that even your would-be political enemies treat you as their neighbor.

Instead, I think the proliferation of campaign gear is like an extension of the unpleasant environment of social media into the physical world. They are an invasion from outside the neighborhood. Putting the signs in your lawn is like sharing memes that other people made. If you are a minority and convinced Trump is racist, the Trump banner looks like it could mark a household as one whose members are hostile to you. If you are a religious conservative, you may wonder if the moral teachings obliged by your church are precisely the “hate” that “has no home” among your neighbors.

Instead of democratic deliberation beginning among neighbors, it seems to me that the proliferation of signs signals the end of debate. The newly permanent signs and banners indicate that our neighbors privilege their affiliation with a political community that transcends their neighborhood. A worrying sign indeed.