Sign, sign, everywhere a sign
Blockin’ out the scenery, breakin’ my mind
Do this, don’t do that, can’t you read the sign?
Tesla (1990)
Do you remember this song? It’s a protest song of sorts, protesting all those signs that tell people what they can and can’t do. Signs were then and still are, 
for some, a tool for telling the non-conformists to shape up and the marginalized to stay away. Get with the program. You’re not welcome here. Not the way you look/act/think/dress/talk/live your life. No voting without a valid picture ID. No gay wedding cakes sold here.
Our local paper ran a story about a problem that exists between the state police and local police departments over which agency should provide officers for public safety and traffic control at construction sites (Susan Spencer for the Worcester Telegram, August 7, 2013). The real issue is money – the work pays very well. Apparently the two sides were unable to talk to each other intelligently and maturely enough to devise a compromise.
Within a week, the state police erected a billboard on a local overpass saying, in giant letters, “Troopers are your best protection!” Of course, many people driving by had no clue what the sign was about. It was just a ridiculous and blatant declaration of superiority, empty of any meaning other than to irk the local police. Signage, in this case, was used as a way to yell at the other side, like kids on a playground.
Local police responded by calling the paper to say the billboard was “a vicious attack on a community.” First of all, such strong language is best reserved for the situations for which it is intended. Was the act violent? Dangerous? Bloodthirsty? Murderous? Barbaric? Secondly, if those two agencies can’t talk to each other to work out traffic flow situations, how in the world can we rely on them to resolve drug trafficking or domestic disputes?
For the last 10 years, war protester have gathered on a busy street corner in my neighborhood every Saturday morning. They hold up signs that say, “No More War!” and, “Honk if you want peace!” and, “Bring our troops home!” These are good people, members of a local church congregation who are compelled to bear witness for peace. Many of the drivers threading their way through the intersection honk their horns in a raucous testament to their shared longing for peace. I’m among those who do not honk, not because I want war, but because I am conflicted about this scene.
We are never going to establish peace by standing on street corners brandishing signs that ask people to choose sides, or by honking horns in response. The bumper stickers saying, “I’m already against the next war,” and, “Pro War? Enlist!” are not going to establish peace. Those well-meaning efforts have a disquieting feel, the feel of chip-on-the-shoulder militant opposition, which is of course a sadly ignorant way to go about achieving peace.
I hope that one day soon peacemakers will stand on the same busy street corner with signs that say, “Are you from the Middle East? Please come talk to me.” “Do you have a son or daughter in the military? Please come talk to me.”
In the next town over from where I live, a white couple raising two white sons put a “Black Lives Matter” sign on their lawn recently. A neighbor snuck over at night to vandalize the sign, covering up “Black” with a piece of paper reading “ALL.” The homeowners fixed the sign and kept an eye out for the vandal.
When their disgruntled neighbor arrived with another “ALL” sign in hand, the homeowners went out to try to engage him in conversation. He snarled that “all lives matter” and the homeowners were “taking support away from cops.” These phrases were thrown over the shoulder of the retreating neighbor like poison darts. (Nettie Harrington Pangallo for the Daily Hampshire Gazette, September 7, 2016)
Signs have an important role in national protests, such as the Women’s March on Washington in January of 2017 (https://www.livingasequals.com/2017/02/02/the-world-wide-womens-march-january-21-2017/). There, individual voices and perspectives need signs to communicate the collective voice of the crowd.
In your own community, be careful not to use lawn signs, window signs and protest buttons as a substitute for conversation. When we use them as a shortcut to the messy process of actually talking to one another – at length, and until a glimmer of understanding is achieved – they are as ineffectual as writing a message in invisible ink.
If we are going to live as equals, we are going to have to roll up our sleeves and talk. Sit down and look one another in the eye. Hold the gaze of someone we disagree with for as long as we can – even for a few seconds, without saying a word. Take few deep breaths, then let the other person go first.
