No Harris yard signs? No problem

I spotted my first DIY Kamala Harris for President sign a few weeks ago while walking to the train. A homeowner had not-so-subtly folded down Joe Biden’s name on their lawn sign after it had been rendered obsolete overnight, leaving only the “Harris” visible for all.

I was both tickled by the ingenuity and taken with how one little tuck could so perfectly illustrate our nation’s political fickleness. It was just 10 days after Biden dropped out of the race July 21 and offered his endorsement of Harris as the new Democratic presidential nominee. So, I figured it would be no time before updated signage would be rolled out.

But week after week, the lack of official political campaign signs was notable. Even when I enlisted my social media troops to be my eyes and ears, they, too, came back empty. Had someone forgotten to yell, “Stop the presses!” at all the sign-making printer shops when Biden bowed out, I wondered. Or was everyone just waiting for Harris to choose her running mate, Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz? I could only imagine her campaign scrambling after the historic presidential pivot.

Meanwhile, DIY displays continued to bloom on front lawns just about everywhere as I took my search on the road. Along the way I found a front lawn featuring 30-inch letters that spelled out “KAMALA 2024” and a light-up banner reminding us all to “VOTE.”

On a wooden fence just steps away from my first DIY discovery, I found a charming “Kamala & The Coach” sign devised by an 81-year-old yoga instructor and designer who got tired of waiting for official signage. So she fashioned her own, adorned with the Om symbol and lotuses — the latter a reference to the Sanskrit meaning of Harris’ first name.

“I’m so excited about this on so many levels,” she told me.

It was a sentiment echoed over and over again by politically conscious artisans — many who said they were prepared to do what needed to be done to keep Donald Trump out of office, including voting for Biden despite the growing calls for him to step aside after his troubling debate performance.

But when Harris ascended to the top of the ticket, an irrepressible enthusiasm and energy inspired them to tap into their arts-and-crafts skills in a way a few people I interviewed said they hadn’t since grade school.

One person I spoke to, a teacher, wasn’t sure she’d be putting up any political signs this year. But when a neighbor across the street hung a big banner that read “Trump 2024 — The Revenge Tour,” she felt obligated to show passersby that sentiment wasn’t representative of everyone on their close-knit block.

And when Biden dropped out, she took inspiration from other signs she’d seen and, with respect, modified hers with some delicately aligned blue electrical tape to show that the presidential race may have changed but her support hadn’t.

In another neighborhood, I found myself unexpectedly moved by an old Biden/Harris sign outside a home that seemed to lift Harris while showing her respect and affection for Biden with a strategically placed red heart and number 4 so that the sign now reads, “Biden 4 Harris.”

That was exactly what the sign’s creator was going for, she told me. As excited as she was to vote for a capable woman who might become our country’s first Black and South Asian female president, she also wanted to show her appreciation for a man who “chose country over party.”

In the course of my travels, I stopped in at a local Harris for President campaign office. There, a standing room-only crowd of supporters gathered for rousing pep talks. A table was stacked with a variety of hot-off-the-presses choices: “Harris for President.” “Pennsylvania for Harris.” “Harris/Walz.” “Let’s win this.” And my personal favorite: “Kamala.”

Just Kamala — like Beyoncé or Rihanna or Sade or any other one-name celebrity.

After looking over the options, I chatted up a mother who was at the event with her 18-year-old daughter. The daughter is an incoming college freshman who planned to cast her first-ever vote in a presidential election for Harris in November. The mother and daughter snagged a handful of posters they’d waste no time showcasing and offering to friends, family and anyone else who crossed their paths.

In fact, when I visited them the next day, they’d already adorned their home’s front window with several newly acquired signs.

Mission accomplished, I thought.

Helen Ubiñas is a columnist for The Philadelphia Inquirer.