Scandals surrounding politicians’ body art are rare but always resonant. Recently, the public’s attention was drawn to Graham Platter, a progressive Democrat vying for a US Senate seat from Maine. His campaign, which had previously secured the support of Bernie Sanders, faced an unexpected obstacle when a video surfaced online revealing an old tattoo on his chest.
Symbols of the Past: How the “Death’s Head” Affected a Career
The incident occurred after a video circulated online showing Platter dancing at his brother’s wedding. A tattoo of a skull and crossbones, known as Totenkopf, was clearly visible on his chest. This symbol, historically associated with SS units and widely recognized as a neo-Nazi emblem, immediately sparked a wave of criticism and jeopardized the candidate’s political future.
Platter was quick to explain the situation, claiming he got the tattoo in his youth while serving as a Marine in Croatia and was intoxicated at the time. He stated he was unaware of the sinister associations of the “Death’s Head.” As soon as he learned the symbol’s meaning, he decided to have it immediately covered. To prove that the hate symbol had been removed, Platter posted a topless photo showcasing a new design: a Celtic cross and a dog, completely covering the old ink.
Tattoo Culture and the Burden of the Past: An Expert Analysis
Graham Platter’s story, while seemingly peculiar for the political arena, is not unique in the world of tattoos. Every day, thousands of people across the country turn to tattoo artists and laser removal specialists, trying to get rid of symbols associated with far-right or criminal ideologies. A tattoo, as a permanent marker of identity, often becomes an unbearable reminder of a past that one wishes to leave behind.
The tattoo industry has long recognized this problem and is actively involved in its solution. Numerous national non-profit organizations offer free or subsidized services for the removal of “hate tattoos.” For example, the California-based organization Jails to Jobs helps former inmates start new lives. They maintain a catalog of over 300 tattoo removal programs in 45 states and several countries, and also publish guides for communities wishing to launch similar initiatives.
Among the clients of these programs are not only former members of racist groups. Many are victims of human trafficking, domestic violence, or coercion into gang participation. However, a significant portion of prison tattoos still bear the imprint of racist ideology: swastikas, runes, or coded symbols declaring allegiance to neo-Nazi movements. The Anti-Defamation League (ADL) has maintained a catalog of such symbols since 2000, and their “Hate on Display” database now contains over 50 pages.
The Line Between Change and Concealment
Professionals working with these clients constantly face an ethical dilemma. Dustin Ortell, who oversees the free Ink-nitiative program at the large Removery chain, highlights the main concern: “There’s a lot of anxiety: are they truly changing, or are they just hiding?”
The Ink-nitiative program, running since 2020, accepts about 300 individuals annually, selected after a thorough vetting process that includes recommendation letters from parole officers or psychologists. Ortell claims his experience allows him to distinguish genuine remorse from an attempt at concealment.
“I have a good gut feeling. By examining documents and letters from attorneys, you can see where this person has come from and compare it to the marks on their skin,” Ortell comments. Before each procedure, he conducts in-depth conversations with clients about their life journeys and the reasons that led them to abandon their old beliefs. These conversations are often extremely emotional: “I cry with people,” he admits.
Kate Widener’s Unbiased Approach
In Oregon, Kate Widener, an advanced aesthetician and owner of Undo Tattoo and Laser in Gresham, takes a different, more lenient approach. She performs an average of about 70 tattoo removal sessions per week, with approximately 25% of them through her free program. Widener does not require clients to fill out forms or provide recommendations.
“It’s invasive, and I don’t like it,” she says about the bureaucracy. “I guarantee confidentiality and no judgment. All they have to say is, ‘Please help me,’ and I’ll start the conversation.” This approach has made her incredibly popular, attracting clients who travel for hours from remote locations like Seattle or Idaho.
However, Widener does not deny that she sometimes encounters those who have not abandoned their beliefs. “I have a guy who comes to remove tattoos only from his face, but leaves all the others below his neck,” she says. “Over thirty swastikas that go from his neck down. So yes, many people are just hiding who they really are.”