The Statue of Liberty, on Liberty Island in New York harbor, is an obvious tourist attraction and an icon that should not be missed when in NYC. That being said, when I photographed her, I was in a very different place on every level. In looking up specific dates of arrival in the harbor, etc. to add to this IG post, I was enlightened to a history of her that I was never taught in grade school or that I never paid attention to in any other facet. I have been ignorant of the measure of this symbol on so many levels. Yes, the statue of Liberty was given as a gift from the French people commemorating the alliance of France and the United States during the American Revolution. Arriving in New York Harbor in 1885, it was the hope of many French liberals that democracy would prevail and that freedom and justice for all would be attained. No, freedom and justice for all does not mean freedom and justice for all. The ‘iconic representation of American freedom and liberation’ that it was intended to be, pertained to a very limited and elite people group. The statue as a representation of ‘freedom’ and ‘enlightenment’ did not and possibly still does not represent that to all.
The following excerpt is from a history of the Statue of Liberty from Indiana University in 2005, done as a historical research study for the National Parks Service. It is mind opening. Read this excerpt and continue to read even further on the document itself: http://www.cesu.umn.edu/sites/cesu.umn.edu/files/statueofliberty.pdf
Perhaps due to the disparity between the ideals of freedom that the statue was said to represent and the reality that most African Americans experienced, their attitude toward the statue was understandably ambivalent. A Philadelphia African American paper, the Christian Recorder, followed the Statue of Liberty’s progress intently from fundraising appeals to the dedication itself. The paper’s November 4, 1886 editorial was a sarcastic reaction to the pomp and bland patriotism of the celebration. After recounting the decorations and some of the speeches, the editorial stated:
To us, who are struggling to build a standing foundation for right life and growth, hardly thinking of looking to such heights as the conception of monuments building, all this display has somewhat the effect of the gilded mental phenomena of joyous dream, and passes away with too much of its regretfulness.
This comparison of the optimism and celebration of the dedication to a joyous dream emphasized the editorialist’s belief that official speeches at the dedication had little to do with the lives of most African Americans. The editorial further satirized the emphasis on business and economic opportunity at the dedication:
But when read the history of those Bartholdi statuists as it appears on the long page of their history, observing whence they came, out of what degradation and obscurity, out of what ignorance and vice, out of what barbarism and shame - all by internal energies, aided by that benign influence always given from above to the struggling energies of God's sons in their attempts to regain their divine excellence, we are encouraged to purer thoughts and nobler deeds.
Frustration at the disparity between the idealized version of liberty offered at the dedication and the daily lives of many African Americans led to a sarcastic disavowal of any connection to the Statue of Liberty.
The Cleveland Gazette had an even harsher reaction to the dedication. Just weeks after its lighthearted and approving description of the statue’s festivities on Bedloe’s Island, the editors of the Cleveland Gazette used the Statue of Liberty as a symbol to protest the failings of liberty in American society. On November 27, 1886, the Gazette published an editorial:
It is proper that the torch of the Bartholdi statue should not be lighted until this country becomes a free one in reality. ‘Liberty enlightening the world’ indeed! The expression makes us sick. This government is a howling farce. It cannot or rather does not protect its citizens within its own borders. Shove the Bartholdi statue, torch and all, into the ocean until the ‘liberty’ of this country is such as to make it possible for an industrious and inoffensive colored man in the South to earn a respectable living for himself and his family, without being ku-kluxed perhaps murdered, his daughter and wife outraged, and his property destroyed. The idea of the ‘liberty’ of this country ‘enlightening the world,’ or even Patagonia, is ridiculous in the extreme.
This editorial was the first instance where the idealized freedom enjoyed by United States citizens—symbolized by the Statue of Liberty—was contrasted against a violent reality by an African American writer. In a world where African Americans could be lynched with few consequences for the vigilantes, the statue’s promise of the ability to live a life free of government intervention—as many of the dedication speakers interpreted it—rang hollow. Many African Americans would have welcomed government intervention to end lynchings.
That being said, I’m hesitant to post these images for obvious reasons. Do some research. Do a lot of research. Learn this history. It is not nearly as glamorous and honorable as I was taught.
Knowing what I know now, would I still have photographed her? Yes.
Would how I represented her and the ways in which I viewed her have changed? Also, yes.
Interestingly, many of the images I captured were from behind her. I, in no way, did that with any reference to the following insight from W.E.B Du Bois’s Autobiography, but, I think it is particularly powerful now.
The Statue of Liberty was not entirely anathema to African Americans in the 1890s, however. In his Autobiography of W. E. B. Du Bois: A Soliloquy on Viewing My Life From The Last Decade of the First Century, Du Bois detailed a trip to Europe between 1892 and 1894. After describing his travels, Du Bois discussed his return to America by ship, amusingly telling about the immigration of some of the people on this ship and through his words in effect including himself in an immigrant narrative. He described the class system on the ship, the barriers of color in place, and the “half- educated men” on the ship coming to America for opportunity. As in many immigrant narratives, the Statue of Liberty occupied a place toward the end. Du Bois described his experience upon sighting the statue, not as a quasi-religious feeling or overwhelming joy, but rather with some amusement as he recalled an incident from his travels. As Du Bois related, when he saw the statue, “I know not what multitude of emotions surged in the others, but I had to recall that mischievous little French girl whose eyes twinkled as she said: ‘Oh, yes, the Statue of Liberty! With its back toward America, and its face toward France!’” Du Bois thus subverted the traditional immigrant narrative: first placing himself as an African American among the white immigrants, second by reacting with amusement to the sight of the statue, and third by reminding the world that the Statue of Liberty was French, not American in origin. It may also have been that Du Bois saw the statue’s position “with its back toward America” as ironically suggestive of the position that white America and the promises of American liberty had in relation to African Americans such as himself.
This is where I am right now. In a place where, what I was taught or what I learned or what I experienced as a white upper middle class woman, was created to uphold and support a patriarchy of white christian men. And it is a vital awakening. One that continues to break open and peel back layers and expose many things inside of me and many things I do by default. It has formed how I create. And, I am currently devouring the things, such as this history, that are setting me to rights and putting me on a path of an understanding of true freedom and liberation and what that might really mean ‘for all’.
