For nearly 60 years a set of Works Progress Administration murals decorated the walls of Hatch School in Oak Park. Then one day last spring Darryl Lee, the father of a seven-year-old student, caught sight of them and was outraged by what he saw. After Lee complained that the murals contained offensive racial stereotypes they were covered. But on a frosty night in February they’re temporarily on display again.

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The focal point of the debate is also on this wall: the “People of the World” section. Waltrip, who was considered quite the liberal for showing a variety of human types in then-white-bread Oak Park, painted representatives of each of the major races as they were understood in 1936. The images are simple, even crude, and bear a remarkable resemblance to the childlike figures on a nearby banner celebrating Black History Month. They have minimal features and big smiles. The black figures, which have prominent red lips and fuzzy hair, hold spears and shields or rakes; several of the brown and red figures also hold spears.

Darryl Lee, who started the debate, seems to be a thoughtful man. “I’m just a very concerned African American parent,” he says. “The images on the mural were in my opinion racist, stereotyped images of Africans, African Americans, and Native Americans. There’s the classic black Sambo and the classic Aunt Jemima stereotype. These grotesque caricatures are your basic everyday racism. I feel black children are bombarded by enough negative images, and, as a taxpayer, I don’t feel my son should see them in school.

First is David Sokol, chairman of the history of architecture and art department at the University of Illinois at Chicago. “I submit that the path to censorship hell is paved with good intentions. First remove these murals for the sake of the children, then ban library books that include stereotypes of people of color, Jews, Asians–and there is no telling where it will end.”

Out in the hallway a crowd gathers in front of the murals. A squat, white-haired cameraman stomps up and demands, “Where are they?” Someone indicates they’re right in front of him. “That? You’re kidding! They’re making all this fuss about that?” He shakes his head in disgust, and his partner laughs. They shoot some footage.

The young black man thinks the murals should be ripped down immediately. He’s deeply offended by everything about them: the little figures in “People of the World,” the portrayal of history, even the agricultural-products map. “Where are the black cowboys?” he asks, his voice rising. “Where is George Washington Carver?”