Dear Auntie Mac,

Recently our neighbors across the street placed a statue of “Jocko, the Lawn Jockey” on their front lawn, right across from our house, affording us a perfect view from our windows of what we consider inappropriate, and what our friends of color call “racist” when they come to visit us. I like our neighbors, I really do. I think it’s naivety on their part. Perhaps it’s a family heirloom, or a valuable antique.  However, we find it very offensive, and in conversations with others, we find we’re not alone. Would it be wrong to mention this to them?

Sincerely,

A PC Fam

My Dear Neighbor:

Your problem represents in and of itself such a perfect twofold conundrum that “The Lawn Jockey Dilemma” should be a required course for anyone considering a Master’s Degree in Ethics and Critical Theory. Auntie Mac is willing to wager that most people who have this statue in their yards have never heard of Jocko Graves or the stories about him. These black-faced, racially caricatured lawn ornaments were not purchased to celebrate a 12-year-old boy who froze to death in the 1700’s holding George Washington’s horses (as the legend goes), let alone represent the bravery of a people (as apologists are wont to suggest). However, as you say, it may be a family heirloom—something with which your neighbors are loathe to part. You do not wish to alienate your neighbors, who have publicly displayed something that is offensive or insulting to nearly all who look at it. And therein lies the red meat on the rug of your dilemma: by publicly displaying an item that is so widely known to be polarizing (as opposed to remanding it to a basement shelf reserved for “Gramma’s Keepsakes,” for example), your neighbors are making some type of statement. It is not up to you, however, to decipher what that statement is. They have made a choice. They may be eagerly awaiting a public outcry so that they may smugly inform you of the proud heritage of Jocko and his contribution to African American history (muttering a self-satisfied “Take that!” under their breaths). Some people do live just for those small moments of perceived glory. Again, they may merely view the statue as yet another piece of Americana, whose level of kitsch has surpassed any negative connotation it once had. Or they may be simply hiding their keys under its base. Who can say?

The only courteous and/or diplomatic course of action, if you insist on an action of any sort, would be to casually and congenially say to them “I’m sure that bit of statuary gets lots of comments,” and see if a friendly conversation ensues. “Informing” them of its effect on you or your friends is pointless; they are not unaware of its many associations, including those most foul. You could mention that you know of museums who are currently collecting these artifacts, as they have come to represent, even in their most benign, walkway-lighting incarnations, a grave insult to many people, and have they thought of making such a donation? Beyond that you can do no more. It will be a lovely occasion when those who deliberately choose to incite people around them with knowingly polarizing symbols, solely for the benefit of feeling some sort of perverse power by doing so, might pause, think of what might the kinder thing to do, and place statues of rabbits along the path, fly flags that say “Summer’s Here,” and put stickers on cars saying “I Love Hampton.” The view from the moral high ground is far superior to that from a walkway dimly lit by a remnant of our sad and sorry past.

Your Auntie Mac