Public commemorations can serve as an important means of preserving historical events and shaping collective memory. Historically, dominant narratives have often overshadowed or marginalized the experiences of minority groups, perpetuating inequalities and erasing their contributions to society. As vessels of memory, monuments are reflections of culture and history, and statuary monuments have long been a significant medium through which societies commemorate notable individuals and events, serving as enduring symbols of cultural memory and identity. In a new era of social justice, however, there have been concerted efforts to challenge these narratives and amplify the voices of marginalized communities through commemorative practices. In this paper, I survey recent conference and publication initiatives from an archaeological perspective that highlight commemorative stories of minorities with real life examples that elucidate the significance of these narratives in shaping collective memory and fostering inclusivity.

The oldest modern “out” public LGBTQ+ statues, entitled Gay Liberation, were erected in 1984 on Stanford University’s campus, in memory of the 1969 Stonewall riot in New York City. The oldest “out” LGBTQ+ public monument is the Homomonument constructed in 1987 in Amsterdam. Pride in LGBTQ+ history is reclaimed by identifying older unlabeled LGBTQ+ statues that were “closeted” when being gay was illegal. Four major types of subsequently-erected ”out” memorials are discussed: statues of famous LGBTQ individuals, and monuments and plaques to LGBTQ+ hate crime murders, pride events, and the AIDS epidemic. Vandalized LGBTQ+ monuments are discussed, as well as LGBTQ protests against homophobic statues and signs, resulting in the removal of the Frank Rizzo statue in Philadelphia. Finally, historical markers are suggested for LGBTQ+ sites in Detroit. Increasing the public visibility of LGBTQ+ global history is important for increasing pride and appreciation, and hopefully decreasing anti-LGBTQ+ discrimination and violence.

A feminist intersectionality theoretical approach reveals that Native Americans have a diversity of responses to statues representing them. Since at least 1970 some have protested all statues of Native Americans, while others have protested the intersecting racism and sexism in colonialist statues and sports mascots. Recent protests, sometimes with Black Lives Matter, have led to vandalism or removal of several statues of Columbus, and a few other statues of English colonists, Spanish conquistadors, and friars, sometimes including Native Americans in subordinate positions, which offend everyone. “Assimilationists” favor statues positively portraying Native Americans. A feminist analysis revealed more statues of men than women, and only Native American men attack colonists or are represented as Noble Savages, while only women are feminist symbols. More recent statues eschew generic colonialist stereotypes for narratives restoring empowering pasts of Native Americans as strong independent individuals, such as Tecumseh, Sacagawea, Sarah Winnemucca, Pocahontas, and Black Hawk.

Monuments function as archives of histories allowing us to remember and keep alive past events, stories, and loss, but only recently are LGBTQ+ histories being honored in public landscapes. For many communities, place and identity are entangled realities. For LGBTQ+ communities, having physical sites of remembrance that echo histories into the landscape is incredibly important. Such sites help individuals connect with their own identity, reinforce a sense of belonging, and proudly acknowledge that LGBTQ+ people have always existed here.
How do LGBTQ+ communities remember, honor and share their histories? What role do places and landscapes play in remembering LGBTQ+ history? Through case studies of place-based and living memorials such as Stonewall National Monument, the AIDS Memorial Quilt, and Canada’s 2SLGBTQI+ National Monument, the session will examine how we currently memorialize LGBTQ+ history and how to queerly and radically remember and honor the LGBTQ+ struggles, resistances and victories into the future.

Marginalized groups have long struggled to have their histories acknowledged, much less more permanently marked on the landscape through monuments and other means of acknowledgement. This is especially true of those with intersecting marginalized identities. This paper examines the representation of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, and other gender and sexual minority (LGBTQ+) women’s histories internationally. Many factors complicate this work; perhaps most prominent is the fluid, nuanced, and culturally specific understandings of sexuality and gender difference. Using examples from around the world, I propose a framework for identifying LGBTQ+ women’s monuments and memorials both past and present.

In 2015, President Obama brought renewed attention to the African American Pullman Porters’ contributions to the U.S. labor and civil rights movements when he established the Pullman National Monument. Now Pullman National Historical Park, public and private efforts are underway to make the figure of the Pullman Porter visible in the surviving landscape of industrialist George M. Pullman’s model town, which is today a neighborhood on Chicago’s far South Side. Efforts include the construction of a small, commemorative monument outside of the National A. Philip Randolph Pullman Porter Museum, creation of murals, billboard marketing campaigns, and development of new interpretive exhibits. These efforts exemplify the way legacies of racism and institutional and economic power inform where and how the stories of the Pullman Porters’ will be told.

Utilizing key concepts such as Critical Heritage Discourse, placemaking, and Cultural Heritage Theory, this paper investigates the legacies and reception of Fannie Lou Hamer, James Meredith, and Oseola McCarty in Mississippi. Following the Civil War, the Daughters of the Confederacy used statues to cement Southern identity and heritage, prompting the question: Where do Black legacies fit within Southern heritage? When statues are erected, are they prominently displayed in central locations, or relegated to obscure sites? Do they encounter racist backlash or vandalism? Are people intended to interact with the statues, or are they for just observation? This paper delves into how legacies are articulated through the shared materiality of statues. The paper also examines concepts of ownership, community, and placemaking through the lenses of the statues, their stakeholders, and audiences.

“To understand the world, you must first understand a place like Mississippi.” - William Faulkner

Richmond, Virginia has often been at the center of debates around the propriety of monuments to the Confederacy in public spaces. Within the last decade, commemorations of Confederate leaders have been removed from the city’s landscape while statues of Black Americans have been added. Amongst these new monuments is Kehinde Wiley’s ‘Rumors of War.’ Stylized to closely resemble Frederick Moynihan’s 1907 equestrian statue of Confederate General J.E.B. Stuart, Wiley’s subject is an unnamed Black youth in twenty-first century attire atop a horse. Located outside the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, it is set up as if the horse is ready to charge the United Daughters of the Confederacy Memorial Building across a small driveway. Wiley’s monument is an example of the possibilities for recontextualization as well as counter-memorialization. This paper uses landscape archaeology and material culture analysis to contextualize Richmond’s changing commemorative landscape in reaction to recent social changes.

Overlooking the daily routine of thousands of Yucatecans in the town of Mérida, the goddess Athena stands as a monument to the violent 54-year conflict between the Indigenous Maya population and the rich hacendados who exploited them during the years of 1847 to 1901. Engraved in ironic red lettering over white stone, a message reads “To the Heroes of the Caste War”. Nobody but the pigeons pays attention to her or her message. In a time when contested histories are brought to the front, one wonders why this monument still stands, and why it is ignored. The answer may lie in the negotiations of identities, the past, indigeneity, remembrance, and the act of forgetting. This is a case study on the complexity of historic perceptions through the colonial experience of Yucatec Maya communities and their descendants.