My next-door neighbor was the first on my street with a “Black Lives Matter” sign erected in her front yard. She pushed it into the black-mulched ground among her hosta plants not long after the first of the shootings of African Americans by police officers that ignited cities in nightly protests.
Now, I’ve seen another sign near the sidewalk edge of a house on my street. With thousands of people protesting and taking to the streets over the past months, the rallying cry that black folks do matter seems to have permeated the exterior of a lot more people.
Three mornings a week, I take a three-mile walk with a friend in neighborhoods around both of our homes. The yard signs have sprouted like refreshing spring flowers in May among the “Biden-Harris” and “ByeDon” campaign signs.
Many of the “Black Lives Matter” signs are the store-bought type – which is fine because the sentiment and placement are what’s important. But every now and then, there is a sign that’s both creative and homemade. Most times I acknowledge the signs with my eyes and keep going. One morning, though, I stopped at a distinct sign (it was distinct, but I’ve seen a few others like it since then).
It was a sign with four raised fists of different shades of brown intermixed with black-eyed Susan flowers with a “Black Lives Matter” marker at the base. It seemed to connect the raised fists of the 1960s and the demand for social justice then with the same calls today. It was as if the past and present connected in a symbolic gesture to show that things have not totally changed but need to.
I photographed this “Black Lives Matter” sign and began chronicling others on my morning walks. As I photographed a banner outside one home, a Black woman getting into her car indicated that the owners did not necessarily treat their neighbors – presumably her and her family – as the sign proclaims.
Today, I share some of the signs that greeted me each time.
Amen and amen.