Street signs

A few years ago in a small town where I have spent a lot of time over the past 20 years, a scandal emerged. The local paper tracked it through a series of letters to the editor. While the outrage never quite boiled over, there was characteristic New England consternation and disappointment. So what happened? Someone in town had the audacity to put up street signs. Not stealing or defacing but installing. And they weren’t outlandish or even ornate; they were simple, good-old-Yankee-practical pieces of wood painted white with black lettering. The folks demanding the removal of the sign bandit's act seemed to embrace the if-you-don’t-know-where-you-are-you-probably-don’t-belong-here approach to newcomers and visitors.

Street signs are a worthy metaphor for all us to think about when we welcome people new to our community. We need to be careful that our familiarity with our ways of doing things doesn’t send an unintended message about who belongs here and who might feel like an unwelcome guest. As a community, we soar when everyone feels welcome, when asking questions is met with generosity and not suspicion, and when our pathways and traditions are marked with pride and humility.

Most of the unauthorized street signs remain today, although a few have been defaced and some have been stolen. As far as I know, the bandit remains at large. Still, crime is rare in the town, traffic flows smoothly along the roads where no traffic lights exist, fewer cars stop to ask for directions. And a few more people have become just as smitten as I have with the quiet and unhurried pace of this beautiful place.

JWB