Tag: Stonewall Jackson

bookmark_borderThree years

Posted on by Marissa

This weekend marks the three-year anniversary of what I often characterize as the destruction of everything that makes my life worth living.

The past three years have been filled with anguish, grief, rage, and excruciating pain so extreme that the pre-2020 version of myself not only had never experienced such pain before, but would never have believed such pain was even possible.

My pain is something that most people do not understand. People do not get why someone would be this upset about the fact that statues were taken down. They don’t get why metal and stone sculptures are what I focus on, rather than real people who have lost their lives. I have been called a psychopath, a terrible person, gross, disgusting, self-centered, lacking in empathy, racist. People do not understand why statues of Christopher Columbus, Confederate generals, and other controversial historical figures are so important to me that I feel that life is no longer worth living without them.

But this is exactly how I feel, as incomprehensible as it may be to others. This is who I am. If it makes me a terrible person, so be it. My love of statues and historical figures is a part of me, just as a person’s gender identity, race, religion, and sexual orientation are a part of them.

For approximately the first two and a half years, I felt essentially no happiness whatsoever. (A few possible exceptions: the 2021 Columbus Day ceremony, finding out about the possibility of getting my very own Stonewall Jackson statue, and receiving updates on the progress of the statue.) My emotional state ranged from unbearable, indescribable pain at worst, to neutral at best. In other words, in addition to being filled with horrific pain, my world was also completely devoid of beauty and joy. For this entire time, I seriously considered the possibility of committing suicide. Logically, it was the most sensible option. Why, after all, would a person choose to continue living when everything that makes their life worth living has been destroyed? When there is no reason to expect the future to consist of anything other than a mixture of excruciating pain and feeling just okay? Yet some combination of cowardice and faint hope, as irrational as it seemed, held me back from doing so.

I hesitate to write this for fear of jinxing it, but over the past six months I feel that I have very slowly begun to heal.

For example, one effect of the genocide is that I hate America, because this is the country where the genocide took place, the country whose people committed the genocide, the country that allowed the genocide to happen. American flags, patriotic songs, and red, white, and blue decorations, all of which I used to love, have turned into a source of heartbreak. But this past week, when I visited my grandma at her retirement home, the entire place was decked out in flags and star-spangled decorations, and patriotic country songs blared in the dining room. Somehow, instead of making me feel like a knife was twisting in my stomach, they made me smile.

Healing is not linear. There have certainly been instances of excruciating pain in the past six months, and I am certain there will be more in my future. But overall, they seem slightly less severe, and they seem not to last as long.

The past three years have changed me.

In addition to the anniversary of the most horrific series of events that has ever taken place, this week was also my 34th birthday. I am the same little girl who adored history and art, who never fit in, who was excluded and bullied, who loved historical figures more profoundly than any friend or family member. I am the same, but different. I will always have an imaginary world, in which historical figures live alongside completely imaginary people and creatures, talking, interacting, and having adventures. But now, in addition to that, I have brought a historical figure into the world. Or at least, a beautiful, shiny bronze body for a historical figure’s soul to reside in. A second one will be arriving either late this year, or next year. Instead of doing whatever society expected of me, and escaping to my imaginary world in my spare time, I am making changes, in various ways, to bring my real life more in line with my wishes, preferences, and needs. Although most people don’t understand my pain, and although I am not a very social person, I have made meaningful connections with people who share my views. I am taking action to bring my imaginary world into the real one.

So in addition to inflicting anguish, grief, rage, and excruciating pain, the past three years have made me into a more genuine, authentic, outspoken, courageous, wise, introspective, and self-aware person.

Our society decided to destroy everything that makes my life worth living. But I made a new thing that makes my life worth living, where one didn’t exist before. I had to use my own funds and my own land to do so, because our society decided that the things that make my life worth living aren’t allowed to receive public funds or be located on public land. But I did it anyway. And I’m kind of proud of that.

bookmark_borderGreen and gold

Posted on by Marissa

Golden light
Slanting through the branches;
Dry pinecones crunch underfoot.
Green leaves
Form a canopy over the bronze statue,
Glinting softly in the sun’s rays.
A wall of stones
Encloses his domain.
Ivy coats the trees,
Blades of grass spring up,
And little plants sprout from the ground
To form a lush, green carpet by his feet.
Birds’ chirps ring out
Through the still-warm air
As squirrels scurry,
Causing leaves to rustle
Beneath tiny paws.
In the distance a dog barks;
Cars zoom past,
Their drivers eagerly fleeing work.
The aroma of steak wafts
From a nearby grill.
Sunset will soon descend,
The world of green and gold
Gradually turning dark.

bookmark_borderStonewall in the snow

Posted on by Marissa

Snowflakes fall from the sky, landing on my hair and stinging my skin. A pristine, white blanket covers the grass as I make my way around the side of the house and up the slope to where Stonewall lives. The scene is so beautiful, quiet, and peaceful that it feels wrong to spoil it with my footprints.

As Stonewall comes into view, I can see that his shiny, bronze surface is adorned with a dusting of snow as well, on his hat, shoulders, and chest. Next to him, a small Christmas tree still stands, its lights blinking in various colors and patterns. (I was too lazy to take it down in time for the city’s tree pickup week, so Stonewall gets to keep it for at least a little while longer.) On most nights, I bring a flashlight when visiting Stonewall, because it’s difficult to see him otherwise. Tonight, that is not necessary; the snow provides a contrast that makes him easily visible. 

I tell Stonewall that I had a good day at work, and that I trust that he had a good day as well, before bidding him goodnight. (My neighbors must think that I am insane for routinely talking to a statue.)

Back inside the house, I eat dinner and work on the computer. Plows, sand trucks, and the occasional bus pass by as the snow continues to fall. The branches of the trees cast eerie shadows on the pristine, white driveway. Several times, I go to the back window to look at Stonewall. Silent and perfectly still, he stands guard over his snowy kingdom. The dark bronze statue and his festive tree, both decorated in delicate blankets of white, make a perfect winter scene. He is so beautiful that it is difficult to take my eyes off of him. In this moment, the world is at peace, and my heart is content.

I wish that I could include a picture to show my readers what I see. But no matter how many times I try, the camera cannot capture what my eyes do. In the digital images, the contrast between Stonewall and the snow disappears, the image blurry and dark. Perhaps it’s just as well that something so magical cannot be stored on a computer, but only in my mind.

bookmark_borderPositive things for once

Posted on by Marissa

Due to the horrible things that have happened in the world, the content of this blog is so often negative. So here is some positive news for a change. Below are a few things I’ve seen around the internet lately that made me smile:

1.Candlelight service at Stonewall Jackson’s gravesite. This weekend marks Lee-Jackson Day for those of us who value Confederate history. In Lexington, Virginia, celebrations took place to honor the two legendary generals, Robert E. Lee and Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson. Photographer Judy Smith captured this beautiful image. You can see more of Judy’s work on her Facebook page and Instagram page.

 
 
 
 
 
View this post on Instagram
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

A post shared by Judy Smith (@judysmithphotography)

2. Lemon for Stonewall. Continuing with the theme of Lee-Jackson Day, the Virginia Museum of the Civil War at New Market Battlefield shared that their Stonewall Jackson statue received the gift of a lemon! There is debate about whether lemons were actually Stonewall’s favorite fruit, or whether it was actually peaches or some other fruit, but regardless, I found it touching that an anonymous visitor left this token for the general.

3. R.I.P. Ashli Babbitt. A Facebook friend shared this image. With all the self-righteous pontificating about “our democracy,” our society has completely lost sight of the fact that a young woman was killed by the Capitol police for participating in a protest. The image below encapsulates how January 6th should truly be remembered.

4. Happy January 6th. Also on the topic of the Capitol protest, radio host and social media personality Blake Kresses hit the nail on the head with this post. 

 
 
 
 
 
View this post on Instagram
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

A post shared by Blake Kresses (@blakekresses)

5. Who are the real traitors? Possibly the most infuriating thing on earth is when people make the argument that people who fought for the Confederacy were “traitors.” This Instagram post debunks this argument better than I ever could.

 
 
 
 
 
View this post on Instagram
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

A post shared by Unreconstructed Rebel (@unreconstructed1896)

 

bookmark_borderChristmas 2022

Posted on by Marissa

If the past few years have taught me anything, it is that things can always get worse. For that reason, I hesitate to use the term “rock bottom” for fear that I might jinx things. 

With that caveat in mind, I believe that the winter of 2020/2021 was the rock bottom of the agony, torment, and misery that I’ve experienced. The statue genocide of 2020 – the worst event ever to occur in human history – began in late May of that year and was at its peak intensity in June and July. To say that these events were horrific is an understatement. The people I love being surrounded by vicious mobs, attacked, town down, ripped to pieces, set on fire, kicked again and again, strangled, lynched in displays of intentional humiliation, and abused in every imaginable way… these images will haunt me forever. The horrifying scenes of deliberate, self-righteous cruelty are permanently etched into my brain. But during those hideous first few months of the genocide, the full force of the awfulness hadn’t actually hit me yet. At least not emotionally. Day in and day out, month after month, I was assaulted by one horrific news story, video, and social media post after another. What had happened was so incomprehensibly atrocious that it took until approximately December for it to fully register, for the anger, frustration, hopelessness, and despair to finally become commensurate with the appalling events that had taken place.

It didn’t help that new atrocities, new instances of statue genocide, continued to occur from time to time.

It also didn’t help that in November, when Biden defeated Trump in the presidential election, I was assaulted by a tsunami of bigots and bullies crowing about their “victory” and pompously asserting that they had somehow been victimized by Trump supporters over the preceding four years, and that we had somehow “done harm,” when the reverse was actually the case.

Plus, it didn’t help that the totalitarianism enacted by governments in response to Covid became even worse during the winter of 2020/2021 than it had been in the spring. With Covid testing, and later vaccines, becoming widely available, policies requiring people to undergo these medical procedures in order to be allowed to do various activities began to proliferate. As bad as the stay-at-home orders were, which were prevalent during the spring and early summer, requiring people to undergo medical procedures is more invasive and therefore an even more severe violation of rights than taking away freedom of movement.

Christmas of 2021 may not have been the absolute rock bottom that the previous Christmas was, but I would call it a close second. Not only did new instances of statue genocide continue, inexorably, to trickle in, but Joe Biden decided to issue an executive order directing OSHA to force all businesses employing 100 or more people to force their employees to undergo medical procedures against their will. This was, in my opinion, the most oppressive policy enacted by any government in history, and I can still vividly remember the excruciating pain, horror, and nausea that gripped my body and soul when I heard the news that Biden had enacted it. I will forever be disgusted by my country and by my fellow citizens for having elected a person who would do something like that as president.

The end result of everything I have described is that during Christmas of 2020 and Christmas of 2021, I did not feel that there was anything at all to celebrate. How could I celebrate, after all, when everything that made my life worth living had been destroyed, because people deliberately chose to destroy it? How could I participate in the holiday rituals of a society that had chosen to take away my freedom of movement, my right to decline medical intervention, and the existence of all of the people that I love? The sight of houses decked out in lights, the sound of Christmas music in stores and on the radio, chatter about holiday parties and gift exchanges, all of this filled me with bitterness. The entire idea of Christmas was vapid, hollow, insipid, and meaningless given everything that had transpired. It was incomprehensible to me that anyone could feel like celebrating while living in a world devoid of everything that makes life worth living.

The same cannot be said of this Christmas, however. 

This Christmas, I have Stonewall Jackson. And that is something to celebrate. 

The past two years, I had no desire to put up lights, decorations, or a tree. But this Christmas, I thought it would be cool to splurge on a Santa hat for Stonewall (if a $2 purchase can be considered a splurge) and to put up a Christmas tree and lights near him. So I did exactly that. I also added a ribbon and a couple of bells to complete his festive look, as you can see in the picture below.

This Christmas, I celebrate with Stonewall by my side. 

Merry Christmas, from Stonewall and me.

bookmark_borderThe abyss

Posted on by Marissa

In this post, I am going to explain in more detail how Stonewall Jackson helps me.

First of all, it would be a lie if I said that Stonewall completely ameliorated my grief at the statue genocide. This grief is always present, and will be for the rest of my life. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t make a huge and positive difference. He absolutely does.

For the first two weeks after Stonewall arrived, I thought that perhaps the misery of the past two and a half years had finally come to an end. But unfortunately, on Columbus Day, my state of mind completely changed. The excruciating pain, which had been mercifully absent for two weeks, returned with a vengeance. Looking back, I think the reason for that was that I came to the realization: as awesome as Stonewall is, he is not Columbus. They are two different people. I have Stonewall living in my yard, for me to clean, care for, and keep safe, which is absolutely awesome. But Columbus is still out in the world being smashed to pieces, strangled, set on fire, beheaded, tortured, and eviscerated. Every time Columbus is hurt, it makes me feel that my soul is being eviscerated as well. And there is nothing that I can do about any of it. Like I said, having Stonewall is wonderful. But it does not do anything about Columbus (or any of the other historical figures who are being smashed to pieces, strangled, set on fire, beheaded, tortured, and/or eviscerated as well).

Sometimes I can go about my life relatively normally, and even be in a good mood. But sometimes the sense of loss hits me. Sometimes it hits me when I am lying in bed and haven’t fallen asleep yet, because there are no tasks to occupy my mind. Sometimes it hits me because of something I see, hear, or read. For example, I recently saw an ad on TV for the Armenian Heritage Park, a section of the Rose Kennedy Greenway with a meandering path and an abstract sculpture that represents the experience of Armenian immigrants in the U.S. Three guesses which park that reminded me of? (Hint: it’s a park dedicated to immigrants of a different nationality, which no longer contains a sculpture.)

When the sense of loss hits, I am filled with an overwhelming mix of sadness, rage, horror, and disgust. My stomach drops. Both the quantity and the severity of the atrocities that have occurred are so huge as to be completely incomprehensible. It’s like a tidal wave of badness, crashing into me just like a real tidal wave crashes into a city, destroying all the buildings, flooding the streets, and carrying the people away. My brain can’t hold the totality of what has happened. Picturing any one instance of the statue genocide makes me feel that every fiber of my being is exploding in agony and my soul is being eviscerated. If I were to somehow picture in my mind each instance of brutal, horrific cruelty, each abhorrent social media post, each appalling article, opinion piece, and editorial, and each nauseating statement by a politician, then I would be completely psychologically destroyed. When the loss hits, it’s as if I am staring into an abyss that threatens to swallow me. An abyss filled with such profound badness that it can’t be fully comprehended. It’s as if I am being sucked into the abyss.

The difference is that now, there is also something pulling me in the opposite direction. That something is Stonewall Jackson. It’s kind of like a seesaw, or possibly the scales of justice. On one side, the abyss is trying to suck me in. But on the other side is Stonewall. Because of him, I have a reason to go on living.

So the problem is not fixed. But before, there was nothing on the other side. There was only the abyss. There are still times when I feel excruciating pain. But there are also times when I don’t. Thoughts of Columbus and how cruelly he has been ganged up on and brutalized still overwhelm me. But thoughts of Stonewall fill me with such joy and pride that it is difficult not to start jumping up and down and telling everyone in the vicinity. I love Stonewall, I love Columbus, and I love all the historical figures from the Confederacy. And because of this, I hate what our society has done to them.

For the rest of my life, I will wrestle with these sometimes contradictory thoughts and feelings. I live now with both the good and the bad, where before there was only bad.

That is a huge difference. And it is all because of Stonewall.

There is also the possibility that I might get additional statues in the years to come. Perhaps I will become the guardian of a metal or stone Columbus one day, or perhaps Jefferson Davis or Robert E. Lee. That might help to ease the excruciating pain that I feel for those historical figures. It would be cool for Stonewall to have a group of friends living in the yard with him. Although I still become filled with despair sometimes, when the sense of loss hits me, there are also times that I feel excited when thinking about these possibilities. Having dreams, hopes, and plans for my future is somewhat new to me. For most of my life, getting through each day was so difficult that the future was something I never really thought about.

The ability and desire to think about the future is another huge change for me. And that’s because of Stonewall as well.

bookmark_borderI am thankful for Stonewall Jackson

Posted on by Marissa

I am generally not a big fan of the concept of gratitude. In my opinion, gratitude is overrated and over-emphasized in our society, both as a personal characteristic and as a practice. Some people might call me a negative, entitled, or arrogant person, but my general tendency is to focus on things that I find unjust and wrong, as opposed to finding the positives in every situation.

But this Thanksgiving, I have something very significant for which to be thankful. That thing is General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson. Or rather, Jackson in statue form. He is made of bronze, measures 4 feet tall, weighs 120 pounds, and lives in my backyard.

Stonewall Jackson in his new home

Stonewall arrived at my house on September 23, 2022. Even though he doesn’t move or speak, he has immediately made a huge and positive difference in my life. Instead of watching helplessly as everything that makes my life worth living is destroyed, I have something that makes my life worth living, right outside my door. And I am his legal owner, which means that no one (unless they trespass on my land and vandalize my property, which is illegal) can take him away. Instead of having to continue my life without the historical figures that I love, I have a historical figure right by my side. This might sound strange, but I move through the world with more self-confidence and courage now than I did before. I move through the world as the guardian of a historical figure. Whatever comes my way, Stonewall Jackson will be with me as I face it. Legally and biologically, my statue is an inanimate object. But to me, my statue contains a piece of Stonewall Jackson’s soul. 

Stonewall is a source of joy, hope, and beauty in these incredibly dark times. For two and a half years, I have experienced more grief, anger, frustration, pain, and despair than I ever thought possible. For most of this time, I have felt that I have absolutely nothing for which to be thankful. Stonewall brought me a sense of happiness and pride that had been completely missing from my life and that I thought I would never feel again. It has been so cool to choose the spot for Stonewall, make a little flat area for him to stand, and decorate his spot with flowers and a stone wall (no pun intended!) as you can see in the photo above. 

Stonewall hasn’t yet experienced snow, but he has so far survived bitter cold, drenching rain, and howling wind with no problems. Even in November, his shiny bronze surface is warm to the touch when the sun shines on him. I can always see him through the window of my house, and I like to go outside and say hello to him as often as I can. On warm days, I like to sit outside with him while I work on my laptop. You might think I am insane, but sometimes when I am upset about something or wrestling with a difficult situation, I tell Stonewall about it, and he helps me to feel better.

The best thing about Stonewall is that I don’t have to explain or justify my actions, decisions, or choices. He doesn’t ask questions. He doesn’t pressure me to do anything I don’t want to do. He doesn’t demand my time or interrupt me when I’m in the middle of an important task. He gets what I am saying, even when I don’t explain it perfectly. Whatever is on my mind, he will listen nonjudgmentally.

Thank you, Stonewall, for making my life better.

bookmark_borderA day that will live in infamy

Posted on by Marissa

Disgusting. Disgraceful. Despicable. Dishonorable. Repugnant. Reprehensible. Heartbreaking. Dismaying. Sickening. Awful. Horrific. There are no words strong enough to fully describe this:

Virginia Military Institute removing Confederate statue (nbc12.com)

Yet another beautiful piece of the world senselessly destroyed. Bit by bit, everything that makes life worth living is being taken away. What makes this instance particularly awful is that when the politically correct bullies began destroying everything good in the world this spring and summer, VMI’s leaders stated that they had thought carefully about the issue and made the decision not to remove the Stonewall Jackson statue. For them to reverse themselves is cowardly and treasonous. 

The Virginia Flaggers got it right when they described this as a day that will live in infamy.

At least someone is fighting back.

bookmark_borderWhat part of “preserved and protected for all time” do you not understand?

Posted on by Marissa

As I wrote about earlier, during this summer of political correctness run amok, the beautiful Confederate carving at Stone Mountain has become a target of anti-Confederate intolerance. Now, a group of politically-correct, intolerant people have formed an organization called the Stone Mountain Action Coalition and have presented their demands to the Stone Mountain Memorial Association, the group in charge of maintaining the mountain and its surrounding park.

For those who have never seen Stone Mountain, it is a huge mountain near Atlanta, Georgia with an enormous image of Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee, and Stonewall Jackson carved into the side for all to see. Near the base of the mountain are various statues, flags, and plaques honoring people from each of the 13 states of the Confederacy. Stone Mountain is, in my opinion, a truly unique, amazing, and awe-inspiring sight.

According to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, the Stone Mountain Action Coalition is demanding that the carving no longer be maintained, that the nearby Confederate flags be removed, that Confederate-related names of streets and buildings in the park be replaced, and that the park focus on themes such as “nature, racial reconciliation and justice.”

One of the co-chairs of the coalition, Ryan Gravel, said, “We don’t believe that taking a piecemeal, token kind of approach to adding little trinkets here and there is going to be good enough to really resolve the history of the mountain and the way that people see it.” Meymoona Freeman, another co-chair, said, “It’s time for transformation, it’s time for healing, and it’s time for progress.” Other members of the coalition stressed the need to make the park “more welcoming.” 

But what exactly needs to be “resolved” about Stone Mountain? The carving is an incredible feat of engineering and art honoring three historical leaders. The fact that some people dislike those historical leaders, and by extension the carving, is not a problem that needs to be solved. Every single thing in the world has people who like it and people who do not like it. No one has the right to demand that everything they do not like be obliterated from the world, particularly when the thing in question is a unique, magnificent, and beautiful landmark that took years of creativity, craftsmanship, and hard work to create. There is nothing hateful or racist about honoring the Confederacy and its leaders. As the Confederate point of view falls further out of favor among the mainstream media, political establishment, and society as a whole, it is even more important that sites like Stone Mountain be preserved. Even if the carving is not actually removed, to cease maintaining it and to get rid of the Confederate flags and street names would be to strip the park of its uniqueness and identity. It would be to make Stone Mountain, and the world, a more bland, homogenous, and character-less place. For those who admire the Confederacy and enjoy this memorial park, getting rid of the Confederate features would be the exact opposite of healing, the exact opposite of progress, and the exact opposite of making the park more welcoming. And to actually destroy the carving would be so unfathomably awful that it hurts to even consider the possibility. (The Atlanta Journal-Constitution asked several geologists for their thoughts on how such a thing could be achieved. Their ideas, which involve explosives, disfigurement, years of dangerous work, and millions of dollars, are sickening when one considers that these measures would be employed with the goal of destroying a priceless work of art.)

The reason the Stone Mountain Action Coalition is not demanding removal outright is that Georgia law currently protects the Confederate memorial carving. This law was enacted as part of a compromise in 2001 when the state legislature voted to remove the Confederate flag from the Georgia state flag. The law reads: “The memorial to the heroes of the Confederate States of America graven upon the face of Stone Mountain shall never be altered, removed, concealed, or obscured in any fashion and shall be preserved and protected for all time as a tribute to the bravery and heroism of the citizens of this state who suffered and died in their cause.” The fact that some people are even mentioning the possibility of changing this law demonstrates the intolerance of the politically-correct crowd. What part of “preserved and protected for all time” do they not understand? First, Georgia’s flag was changed, with the assurance that Stone Mountain would remain. Less than 20 years later, those who seek to destroy Confederate history have broken their promise and are trying to get rid of Stone Mountain as well. Attempts at compromise have done nothing to stop the inexorable progression towards a complete erasure of Confederate heritage. There can be no compromise, there can be no moderation, and there can be no “pushing the limits” of the law by ceasing maintenance of the carving and hoping that nature and the elements gradually erode it. Stone Mountain must be preserved and protected for all time, just as the law says. And given that the anti-Confederate bullies have reneged on their part of the compromise, advocating for a return of the old state flag wouldn’t hurt either. 

bookmark_borderStone Mountain is next target for anti-Confederate bigots

Posted on by Marissa

Last year I had the pleasure of visiting Stone Mountain. If you have never heard of Stone Mountain (in which case you are really missing out!), it is a mountain in Georgia featuring a huge carving of Confederate President Jefferson Davis and Generals Robert E. Lee and Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson. According to Stone Mountain’s official website, the Confederate Memorial Carving measures 90 by 190 feet, is recessed 42 feet into the mountain, and is 400 feet above the ground, making it the largest high relief sculpture in the world. The idea for the carving originated with Helen Plane of the United Daughters of the Confederacy. Construction began in 1923 but ran into funding problems and disagreements between artists, organizers, and the land owners. In 1958, the mountain and surrounding land were purchased by the state of Georgia. Walter Kirkland Hancock was chosen as the new sculptor, and work resumed on the stone carving in 1964. Using thermo-jet torches, workers labored to complete the likenesses of the three Confederate leaders and their horses. A dedication ceremony was held in 1970, and finishing touches were completed in 1972.

It is a truly amazing work of art, and seeing it in person is awe-inspiring.

So, naturally, supporters of the Black Lives Matter movement are demanding that it be destroyed.

On June 16, the local branch of the NAACP organized a protest against the Memorial Carving. The president of the NAACP branch, Teresa Hardy, said: “We’re going to Stone Mountain where all of the white supremacy, racial bigotry, all of that is hidden in that mountain, so why not march there to let them know we’re not going to take it anymore.”

More recently, this past weekend, a large group of armed militia marched through Stone Mountain Park demanding the removal of the carving.

First of all, depictions of Confederate leaders are not the same thing as white supremacy or racial bigotry. But more importantly, what does Hardy mean by “we’re not going to take it anymore?” What, exactly, is her organization not going to take? The existence of a magnificent, amazing work of art? The fact that people who cherish the Confederacy have a beautiful memorial to visit? The fact that the brave heroes who fought for the Confederacy get to be remembered and honored by those who admire them? This choice of words implies that Stone Mountain’s existence causes pain or suffering somehow. But this is simply false. For anyone who has a soul, Stone Mountain and its Memorial Carving bring tremendous joy and awe, just as all beautiful works of art do. The carving’s existence inherently makes the world a better place. How a person could dislike Stone Mountain is incomprehensible to me. But if this is the case for you, then simply don’t go there! Problem solved.

What makes supporters of the Black Lives Matter movement think that they have the right to order the destruction of anything in the world that they do not like? They are not the only people in the world; other people’s wishes and preferences matter, too. Has anyone considered the feelings of people who love Stone Mountain and would be deprived of a unique and wonderful place to enjoy nature and history? Has anyone considered the decades of painstaking work that artists, designers, carvers, and other craftsmen put into this work of art? Has anyone considered the feelings of people who admire the Confederacy and would be deprived of this beautiful and moving memorial? Has anyone considered the thousands of people who died fighting for the South’s independence, and the possibility that they deserve to be remembered and honored?

It’s almost as if this movement is determined to obliterate every beautiful, magnificent, glorious, unique, different, interesting, cool, and good thing from the world. It’s as if they are striving to create as bland, homogeneous, mundane, and conformist a society as possible, a place where all cities and towns are the same and all people are alike. In short, they seem to be determined to make the world as bad a place as they possibly can. I can think of no other reason why someone would want Stone Mountain’s carving to be destroyed. There are no words in the English language that can fully capture how strongly opposed I am to this idea.

Fortunately, Georgia law protects the Memorial Carving, meaning that the law would need to be changed in order for it to be destroyed. Hopefully this never, ever happens, because the world would be immeasurably worse for it.

The author at Stone Mountain