VOL 119, Issue 7—Oct. 28, 2021

08 09
THURSDAY
OCT. 28,
2021
SCENE
BEFORE
AFTER
WHO HASN’T BEEN AT THE TABLE?
New Monuments Taskforce led by women of color
re-evaluates 83 city monuments and the racist history
they symbolize in The Relic Report
In 2019, the statue of Christopher Columbus at Coit Tower was
vandalized in red paint to symbolize spilt blood and then restored
at the price of $70,000, only to be removed by the San Francisco
Art Commission on June 18, 2020. The images show the view of
the tower before and after the statue’s removal. PHOTOS COUR-
TESY OF /WIKIMEDIA COMMONS
SARA AHMED
Staff Writer
Prior to last summer’s social justice reckoning, the
historical context behind Bay Area monuments were
largely unrecognized. The national shift in consciousness
regarding racial injustice in the United States
sparked a wave of public conversation about the truths
of these monuments.
The Relic Report, a record evaluating the city’s
monuments and their racially motivated and colonial
values, was given a formal presentation Oct. 20. The
event was hosted by Litquake, San Francisco’s literary
festival, at the California Historical Society. It
was co-presented by the New Monuments Taskforce
(NMT) and Goethe-Institut SF and was led by the
NMT’s Artistic Director Cheyenne Concepcion and
Development Director Anna Lisa Escobedo.
The NMT is a newly established group of artists
and cultural workers who have taken on the responsibility
of designing and developing new monuments in
the Bay Area. However, before these new developments
can occur, the NMT must evaluate the outcomes of
The Relic Report and surveys with SF residents. The
taskforce’s first initiative, as stated in the NMT report,
was to “broaden understanding of our inherited monuments
and memorials...and create space for critical
conversations.”
Concepcion, a multidisciplinary artist, SF activist,
and author of The Relic Report, said that her joint interest
in art and cities led her to the idea of monument
examination. “What really got me interested in them
was growing up in San Diego, and being right at the
border because the most interesting thing about San
Diego is that it’s half the city and half Tijuana,” said
Concepcion. She explained that living in San Diego
caused her to develop an interest in border urbanism.
The border wall was the main influence in her love
of monuments. “The thing that brought me to monuments
is the wall, because I feel like the wall is such
a monument. Things pass it every day: it’s completely
arbitrary and yet it’s a symbol,” Concepcion said.
The NMT categorized the monuments they evaluated
into different categories. The first was called “The
Boys Club”: a collection consisting of 53 memorialized
men and three women. The NMT stated that many of
the monuments are for “SF government bureaucrats
and national heroes.” Of the 56 statues, only one memorialized
a Black man (Mayor Willie Brown) and
three memorialized women, revealing an imbalance in
representation.
The next category titled “The OGs” or “The Original
Gentrifiers” consists of 15 monuments of notorious
male figures in the colonialism and settlement of the
United States. The collection begins with figures from
the early Spanish expeditions in 1770, the Pioneers 150
years after, and American-Dreamers: wealthy, white
landowners who possessed power in SF. “A former
mayor, James D. Phelan, is responsible for quite a few
of the monuments in the civic collection today,” the
NMT stated in the report. They went on to describe
how Phelan had run for Senate on the campaign, “Keep
California White.” Toler Hall on USF’s main campus
was previously named after Phelan, but the building
was renamed after Burl Toler, the co-captain of USF's
famous 1951 football team and the first African American
official in a major American professional sports
league, in the wake of student action in 2017. “[Phelan’s]
visions for San Francisco were grand… and they
built monuments only for wealthy, white people,” the
NMT concluded.
The report included more categories of monuments
throughout its account, all of which were rooted
in misogyny, racism, exclusivity, and ultimately, white
supremacy. As part of their initiative, Concepcion and
the NMT surveyed Bay Area residents and collected
their responses regarding the monumental relic collection.
One resident stated that “the monuments only
honor achievements of white males and reflect a certain
hierarchy of who and what deserves to be honored
by the collective.” Another stated, “My relationship to
monuments is one of fear and or disgust. I want monuments
who wouldn’t spit on me as I pass them.”
Many of the responses the NMT received were
veracious critiques of the monuments, with some even
calling for the termination of the representations of
white supremacist figures such as Christopher Columbus
or King Carlos III, two colonizers who directly
instituted and engaged in the genocide of Indigenous
people in the Americas. On June 18, 2020, SF residents’
disapproval and vandalization of colonial monuments
led to the removal of a statue of Christopher Columbus
at Coit Tower that had been installed in 1957.
Towards the end of the event, Concepcion reflected
on her time as a leader of the NMT and The Relic
Report, and the role her identity played in its conception.
“In almost every other avenue of life it’s been a
hindrance to be a woman of color, or at least you feel
the weight of that,” Concepcion said. She continued to
emphasize how her identity as a woman of color became
a strength while conducting The Relic Report.
“The fact that I'm telling you how I see the world, and
other people resonate with it, it’s like this is really what
our monuments are saying to us.”
Concepcion said she realized that although it’s difficult
to feel seen and represented, experiences can never
be “wrong,” and are valid despite any lack of external
validation. “You can own a hundred percent of that and
fight on it,” said Concepcion. “That is a strength that
women of color have and I've learned to live in.”
Concepcion mentioned that this lesson was new
to her and connected it to her work with monuments.
“What I experienced from 2020 is that now is the time
to take up space and be unapologetic and live in your
experience because no one can ever take that away from
you. I always come from a very personal place when it
comes to monuments because I think that I'm entitled
to that and I'm gonna fight for that opinion to be heard
too.”
For more insight and a deeper look into The Relic Report,
visit the website at newmonumentstaskforce.org and
IG @newmonumentstaskforce.
HOW USF’S COMMUNITY HELPED ME TAKE
PRIDE IN MY FILIPINA IDENTITY
JADE PEÑAFORT is a
senior sociology major.
Before October
ends, I want to recognize
Filipino American
History Month, which
celebrates the accomplishments,
history, and
legacy of Filipinos in
the United States. But
first, it’s important to
acknowledge colonialism
and the effect it still
has on our people today.
During the Spanish colonial
era, Filipinos were
stripped of their language,
traditions, and
identities. Years later, under U.S. imperialism, Filipinos
became a laundry list for Uncle Sam to exploit
as the demand for cheap labor increased. Because
of this, Filipinos eventually came to make up the
third-largest Asian American population in the country.
Despite having widespread Filipinx communities
throughout the states, there is still a large lack of representation
in what it means to be Asian American.
As a child, I was always aware that I came
from a Filipino background. Both my parents were
born in Quezon City and came to California as teenagers.
I knew a good amount of Filipino dishes and
could sing a few Filipino songs. I knew that I was
Filipino, but it would be years before I understood
what it actually meant to be a Filipina woman.
In elementary and middle school, I was always
embarrassed to bring food from home because it
smelled different. I hated my last name because it
PHOTOS BY JADE PEÑAFORT/SAN FRANCISCO FOGHORN
didn’t fit in among my nonethnic classmates. I was
even taught to pinch my nose when I was younger
so that it wouldn’t be as flat. I learned from a very
young age that being a person of color in the United
States was deemed undesirable. I tried so carefully to
distance myself from my Filipina identity because I
was always surrounded by my white friends.
Attending predominantly white schools in Redwood
City my whole life made me realize how much
I wanted to conform to white culture. I couldn’t comprehend
that by ignoring my culture, I was erasing a
part of myself that helped me identify with my roots
and why I am the way I am.
It wasn’t until college that I began to interact with
and embrace my Filipina identity. In Professor Evelyn
Rodriguez’s class, Filipinx for Black Lives, I learned to
embrace the true history of Filipinos outside of the
biases of Eurocentric ideology. We explored our own
family trees and the traditions we may or may not
continue to uphold in the states. Furthermore, we
learned about our roles as allies and where we stand
as people of color under white supremacy, and how
we are linked to other marginalized communities.
I was able to immerse myself in communities
that understand my culture and upbringing. I’ve
learned how important it is to surround myself with
people who recognize who I am, where I come from,
and the things I am capable of. The small community
we built taught me to feel empowered by my culture
and have pride in the stories and traditions that
shape my identity. I was even taught to appreciate the
uniqueness of my last name and the importance of
pronouncing a Spanish name correctly.
In Rabbi Camille Angel’s class, Queering Religion,
I learned what it meant to be a woman and a
sister and how I can use my privilege to uplift those
around me. In Professor Marco Durazo’s class, Latinx
& Chicanx Culture and Society, I am learning about
the experiences we share with other ethnic groups under
the system of white supremacy.
In each of these classes, I met amazing people
and was able to immerse myself in a culture that
wasn’t present in my youth. We understood each others’
struggles and pressures to assimilate to white culture
as a people of color. We were able to debunk the
myths that prevented us from fully accepting our Filipino
identities and allowed us to create a safe space
for learning, experimentation, and exploration.
Navigating our identities is never easy. It takes
personal effort to really learn about your background
and heritage. To me, being Filipina means carrying
on the stories and traditions that have been passed
on throughout our history. It means carrying myself
with confidence and resilience, the skills that our ancestors
carried with them. It means decolonizing my
mind, unlearning history, and reclaiming my Filipino
roots. It means sharing perspectives and forming a
deeper understanding of your place in the world as a
Filipinx individual in a way that makes sense to you.
As this month comes to an end, it’s important
to acknowledge your family roots and the personal
narratives that don’t get to be heard. It’s important
to take pride in your family name, the shape of your
nose, or the smell of a yummy traditional dish. For
centuries, Filipinos have been stripped of their ability
to create their own narratives. As the younger generation,
it’s our responsibility to preserve the narratives
of our ancestors and those to come.
OPINION