In February, a concerning incident unfolded as the National Park Service quietly removed the “T” and “Q” from descriptions of the Stonewall National Monument in New York City, the first US landmark dedicated to LGBTQ+ rights and history. This act of erasure signaled a troubling trend of omission in queer history. As a nonbinary and transgender artist with a passion for exploring power dynamics related to sex and gender, I felt compelled to respond. Utilizing salvaged materials from the renovation of the Stonewall National Monument Visitor Center, I created a six-foot-tall sculpture titled “Capital T” as a direct restoration of what the government sought to erase.
Constructed from the remnants of a queer dance floor at the original Stonewall Inn, “Capital T” serves as a tangible reminder that resistance is tangible, weighty, and defiant. Motivated by a desire to take action, I joined Fall of Freedom as an artist initiator in August. Fall of Freedom is a movement calling on the arts community to unite against authoritarian forces sweeping the nation. This week, we are launching a nationwide wave of creative resistance, with over 600 events planned for November 21 and 22.
The scale and scope of these events underscore the need for a collective response to the challenges we face, rather than relying on individual efforts. As a trans individual, I have experienced heightened scrutiny in both my personal and professional life. Institutions that once championed risk-taking have succumbed to pressure, leading to funding threats, exhibition cancellations, and student arrests for peaceful protests. The current administration’s stance has permeated every aspect of my existence, transforming once-safe spaces into extensions of state-sanctioned violence.
This targeting of artists is not new, as evidenced by the NEA Four in the early ’90s and a longstanding history of censorship and suppression. However, artists have always found ways to innovate and push back against oppressive forces. The current climate feels familiar yet intensified, echoing past instances of knowledge destruction and suppression, such as the burning of Magnus Hirschfeld’s Institute for Sexual Science in 1933.
Participating in Fall of Freedom has allowed me to channel my creative energy into a meaningful form of resistance. By engaging in various forms of artistic expression, we are not only standing up against censorship but also showing solidarity with those facing persecution. Art is not a luxury in times of crisis; it is a vital tool for survival and resistance.
As we approach the upcoming events on November 21 and 22, I urge the public to view this moment as an opportunity for collective action. Explore the interactive map of events, show support for local artists, and join creative communities in building coalitions across boundaries. You don’t need to create a massive sculpture to make a difference; your presence and support are invaluable to the artistic community.
In the face of attempts to erase transgender contributions to history, I chose to rebuild our presence using discarded materials. Despite the challenges we face, there is immense potential in coming together to create new futures. The work ahead involves taking what we have and crafting something resilient, clear, and unwavering. Art is a powerful force, and courage is infectious.
