OPINION: The Lawn Jockey Cannot Stand as a Symbol of Racism at Skidmore

I wrote the following letter to Skidmore President Marc C. Conner on Monday, July 27th. The previous summer, some friends and I noticed the presence of the Skidmore lawn jockey on the lawn of the Lucy Scribner presidential residence. I had never seen one where I had grown up, but was familiar with “lawn jockey” as a pejorative phrase and wondered if the same racist history applied to the object itself. After doing some research, including reading a powerful letter by Jehu Sal Deyaun written in 2018 (accessible in its entirety here), it became evident that the prevalence of lawn jockeys in Saratoga was the result of decades of romanticization of classism and racism. These objects have no place being proudly displayed anywhere on our campus and affiliated buildings. 

As former president Phillip Glotzbach moved out of the Lucy Scribner house, the lawn jockey was removed from the lawn. I had wrongly assumed that this was the result of the new President, a scholar of African-American literature, recognizing the history of the object as a tool of white supremacy. Instead, a few weeks later, it resumed its place on the front lawn. 

As protests continue to challenge complacency with systemic racism in Saratoga, including bringing attention to the case of Darryl Mount Jr., it has never been more clear that ignorance is violence. Below is the letter I wrote to President Marc C. Conner and his response the following day:

To Marc C. Conner, Barbara Reyes Conner, and the Skidmore Administration,

Saratoga is an attractive town with an interesting history and culture, which draws many students and faculty to Skidmore. Interacting with the people and history of Saratoga are essential to the Skidmore experience; we teach classes in local history, work with businesses downtown, and enjoy a healthy relationship between the town and the College.

If there is one part of Saratoga that has become essential to Skidmore, it’s the race track. Our mascot is the Thoroughbreds, we have excellent polo and equestrian teams, and Campus Safety trot around on horseback on special occasions. There’s even a charming rumor that the oddly spaced steps next to Saisselin were built specifically to accommodate the gait of horses.

But the racialized history of horse racing and racism in Saratoga have long gone unexamined by the Skidmore administration and the student body. As we continue to challenge the continued targeted oppression of BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color), it becomes increasingly evident that there must be a reevaluation of the symbols and imagery we use. I am (perhaps blindly) optimistic that it is ignorance rather than hatred that allows the continued use of racist imagery at Skidmore College.

There is a lawn jockey on the yard of the Scribner House. It’s painted in dark green and yellow-- the Skidmore colors, and sits to the right of a big oak tree that’s certainly older than me and to the left of the driveway (if you’re looking from the street). The Skidmore lawn jockey is not painted in the repugnant, racial-carricature style of days of old… his skin is a peachy color much like mine. 

But this object does not belong context-less on the lawn of a college president. The history of the lawn jockey is imbued with racial hierarchy, white supremacy, and sugar-coated memories of the Antebellum South. “Lawn jockey” itself is a pejorative term when directed at Black people, similar to “Uncle Tom” in its meaning, and even with its skin painted white you cannot scrub off the history of the object as a “picaninny” object. Some have said that the lawn jockey is a symbol of Black empowerment, arguing that these statues once pointed the way through the Underground Railroad or that the statues began as a tribute to George Washingtons’s slave, Jocko Graves. These origin stories are totally unfounded and the Jim Crow Museum verifies them as fabrications invented to justify the continued use of the lawn jockey. The lawn jockey is instead a reminder and active romanticization of the Antebellum South and horse racing as an “elite” institution designed to uphold class hierarchy. 

In a letter to the National Museum of Racing calling for the removal of the 30 lawn jockeys from the front of the museum, Jehu Sal Deyaun said,

“Just like owning slaves was specific to those of a certain class, owning a lawn jockey became a symbol of economic success. This is why they are found all over the country, particularly in suburbs: displaying a lawn jockey is part of the racial maintenance of our class structure. It reinforces the ideology of slavery—of Blacks as different and inferior, and Whites as stately and superior—even as it evolves into the emancipated era. As historian Barbara Fields has noted, however, ‘Ideologies do not have lives of their own. Nor can they be handed down or inherited…an ideology must be constantly created and verified in social life; if it is not it dies.’ The persistence and reformation of the lawn jockey over time helps maintain the social reality of racial and economic inequality that keeps this morbid ideology alive. These stereotypes stifle social change, and help maintain existing systems of inequality.”

This object is a testament to Saratoga’s history. The history of Saratoga is one in which wealthy, white people enjoy leisure and luxury at the expense of immigrants, the working class, Black people, and every other population that has been systematically exploited in order to uphold the privileges enjoyed by the bourgeoisie. Saratoga likes to imagine itself a liberal and welcoming town, particularly when compared to its more conservative neighbors. However, the electoral trends of the town of Saratoga aren’t enough to negate the legacy of racism that still continues now. A professor told me once that when he was interviewing for his position at Skidmore in the mid-1990s, on his ride to the airport in one of the school’s taxis (a now-defunct service), he remarked at the shocking whiteness of the town. The taxi driver, an employee of the college, replied with “yeah, we don’t have [n-words] here.” To this day, it’s open knowledge that the race track is only able to operate because of the exploited labor of undocumented and migrant workers. 

By having a lawn jockey in the College president’s yard, it says little more than “You are not welcome here” to every BIPOC, immigrant, and working-class student. The Skidmore lawn jockey should not sit proudly as a symbol of elitism, classism, and racism. If it belongs anywhere, it’s at a museum where it can be used to educate students on the history of racism in Saratoga and horse racing in general. Removing the lawn jockey will not undo centuries of injustice. It will not directly improve the material conditions of marginalized people (if you’re seeking to do that, I recommend donating to Skidmore’s Black Mutual Aid fund hosted by Pass The Mic**). It will, however, show an awareness of the legacy of intentional harm to BIPOC embedded in Saratoga’s history and the intent to educate, rather than erase, this history.

Best,

Charlotte Squire, ‘21

Below is President Conner’s response:

Hi there Charlotte,

This is a quick response between meetings, but I didn’t want any time to go by before I responded to you.  First and foremost, Charlotte, I’m so appreciative of this outreach:  smart, informed, detailed, impassioned, and sharing insights that you obviously care deeply about.  I’ve in fact been wondering about the history of these jockey statues—I’ve never lived anywhere where such things existed—and I was already planning to learn more.  I didn’t even know one had been put out in front of Scribner House until a few days after it had happened.  I’d been planning to inquire about it since then.  I do have a lot of experience in dealing with the histories and iconographies of public ornaments, monuments, statuary, and the like, and I’m very sensitive to the implications and messages that such objects send.  I of course have to be even more sensitive to this in my new position.  You’ve done me a service in sharing your views so clearly, and I’m now reaching out to others on campus and in our community to learn more and determine the best course of action.  I’ll follow up with you soon.

I’ll also add, again, that this kind of outreach is so admirable.  I’m really glad you felt comfortable and confident enough to write me directly.  I am eager for more such open communication with the entire Skidmore community.  I hope you and I can meet soon, either in person (safely distanced, outdoors, etc.) or via zoom or some other medium.  I’d be very interested in learning more of your experiences at Skidmore, what you like here, what you’d change, etc.

 More soon,

Marc

** Via Venmo at @MutualAidFundPTM, you can read their policies and mission statement here.