Statues are the highest form of art. They display our intelligence. They are a sign of a lasting civilization. A reminder of what trials our forefathers went thru to build this imperfect nation. And, much like Historic Register homes, a reflection of what we looked like at given times in history.
They are community. A sense of belonging that can never be filled with flat art of a gallery. Or grainy photographs that can’t be touched. Knowing that thousands of hands just like yours over a hundred years have touched the same smooth sculpture, the intricate carvings and castings. Photographed and painted a thousand times in attempts to capture the essence that can only really be felt in person.
They are our living history as much as Stonehenge or Easter Island or the ‘mounds’ of Iowa and Ohio. Of course we wouldn’t destroy such ancient treasures, but are they any more important than more modest modern tributes to civilization? Or are they equally important? The maturity of thought that a statue reflects could never be replicated in a generic monolith of names that be struck off willy nilly as the latest moralist trend arises. It’s a lesson we once knew.
Don’t worry the statue of Obama they will put up in its place will not stand for 125 years. The truth will come out in time.