I have been taken down by a mob as a symbol of bigotry. That is not all of who I am.
My dedication reflected the conflicts of the American soul. The main speaker’s words, the Governor’s, suggested an important role for me, the University and the state:
"Ours is the task to build a State worthy of all patriotism and heroic deeds," he said. "A State that demands justice for herself and all her people, a State sounding with the music of victorious industry, a State whose awakened conscience shall lead the State to evolve from the forces of progress a new social order, with finer development for all conditions and classes of our people."
I have anchored the “front door” to UNC-Chapel Hill, the oldest public university in the nation, in a state that has sought to rise to the Governor’s challenge, helping to forever change the South and the country for the better.
Our times now remind me of those of my birth – harsh divisiveness, fear, anger, pain – we lay in echoes of a bitter war that nearly ended our founding. “Silent” statues of combatants rose, without “ammunition”, symbolizing moving past conflict and killing – sadly, yet to be completely fulfilled. Thus, at its core, the intent of my creation was healing.
We must use the potential healing power of monument again to fulfill the University motto: “Lux et Libertas," Light and Liberty, not just for UNC, not just for Chapel Hill, but for our fragmented country. Shunting me away is the easy way out and rewards the ideological lawlessness simmering in our land.