You may be aware that time is running out to share your opinion on what should be done with the statues of Confederate leaders that once stood on Monument Avenue and elsewhere in the city. It’s a poll called “Richmond’s Monuments & Public Art Survey,” which The Valentine museum, in partnership with the Black History Museum & Cultural Center of Virginia, started in 2022. Its purpose is to “gather input on how the region should confront, interpret and reimagine its commemorative landscape.” 

I had forgotten all about this survey, which closes on Aug. 17, perhaps in part because it seemed the people had spoken on this issue. After all, it was the people in the streets who began to tug on these pillars of bigotry and forcefully remove them during the night. Once it became clear that the remaining statues posed a clear danger to the public, state and local officials stepped in to do the right thing. But here we are, talking about those statues again. 

Despite being symbols for a lost cause, they seem to find their way to the center of conversation, don’t they? 

Three years is a long time to conduct a survey. If you haven’t noticed, the vibe in the country is substantially different now. Conversations about race, history and memory have shifted. What was once a loud, urgent demand for justice has morphed into something more complicated — and more contested. 

But one thing remains clear: These statues are not harmless artifacts. They were built to intimidate, to remind Black Richmonders of their “place” and to warn anyone who thought otherwise. Perched on their pedestals, they served no good. That’s why it’s hard to understand how some still believe there’s a reason to salvage these avatars of white supremacy and reposition them as tools to provoke thought or inspire deep reflection. 

It’s been eight years since Charlottesville became the backdrop for one of the ugliest eruptions of hate this country had seen in years. The Unite the Right rally drew white nationalists, neo-Nazis and other hate groups together to protect a statue of Robert E. Lee. It didn’t take long for the clashes with counterprotesters to turn violent, ending in tragedy when a man plowed his car into the crowd, killing Heather Heyer and injuring dozens more. 

Fortunately, the protests in Richmond in 2022 didn’t have as violent repercussions. But whoever makes the final decision on these artifacts, or chooses to respond to the online survey, should look to Charlottesville for inspiration. The statue that hate groups came to defend was removed, melted down and is now part of a planned public art project overseen by the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center. It plans to install the finished piece by 2027, the 10th anniversary of the Unite the Right rally. 

Harboring these avatars of white supremacy, whether beside a wastewater treatment plant or the air-conditioned confines of a museum can’t be the final answer. 

The survey will be over soon, and these troublesome artifacts are in need of an ending to their story. Let’s hope the people in charge are listening this time. 

Marc H. Morial 

Dee