Public art as cultural defense

The Wall as a Witness

Every mural begins as a blank wall, a symbol of silence or neglect, and ends as testimony. For marginalized communities, especially Black and Indigenous populations, public art has long been a tool to rewrite the record. For instance, the “Black Lives Matter” street mural in Washington, D.C., or the “Soweto Walls of Freedom” project in South Africa show how art transforms civic space into community dialogue.

Murals not only beautify neighborhoods; they archive collective memory. They turn local heroes into icons and tragedy into a call to action. The colors may fade over time, but the message endures — that we were here, that we mattered, and that our stories cannot be erased.

Art as Resistance

Throughout history, oppressed people have used art to speak when words were censored. In apartheid-era South Africa, graffiti carried political messages of defiance. During the Civil Rights Movement, posters and protest art amplified the cry for justice. Today, street artists continue that legacy, blending aesthetics with activism. This could be seen in murals created during the George Floyd protests, or artists like Kehinde Wiley, Faith47, or Tatyana Fazlalizadeh who use public art to confront racial and gender injustice.

Public art resists invisibility. It refuses to let systems define what is “worthy” of beauty or permanence. It democratizes creativity. Placing truth not in galleries or gated spaces, but directly in the streets where life happens.

A Living Archive of Identity

Public art also functions as preservation a safeguard for stories that formal institutions often overlook. When museums exclude, murals record. When textbooks distort, sculptures correct. Exact statistics for every single public artwork commemorating Black or African heritage are difficult to pinpoint but Programs like the Mural Arts Philadelphia project are doing their best to capture this information.

In immigrant neighborhoods and historically Black districts, these pieces carry cultural memory ancestral patterns, proverbs, or depictions of rituals that keep identity alive across generations. They remind youth of their lineage and outsiders of their resilience. In this way, public art is not just aesthetic; it’s ancestral. It carries the DNA of a people’s endurance.

The Politics of Space

Yet, the power of public art also lies in where it stands. A mural on a boarded building turns decay into dignity. A sculpture in a gentrifying neighborhood asserts, “We are still here.” Who decides what belongs in public space often mirrors who holds power. Artists who claim that space for community voices challenge systems of exclusion. They shift the urban landscape from one of control to one of collaboration.

When plans were announced to demolish the “Freedom’s Torch” statue in downtown Cleveland to make room for a new development, the community quickly rallied in response. Local residents and preservationists launched a campaign to save the statue, insisting it was an important piece of public art and a symbol of the city’s history. They organized protests, collected thousands of signatures, and lobbied city officials to reconsider. Their passionate advocacy sparked widespread public support, and ultimately, the demolition was halted. Thanks to their efforts, the “Freedom’s Torch” statue was preserved and continues to stand proudly in its original location.

Art, in this way, becomes a civic act , a form of peaceful protest against erasure.

Teaching Through Creation

Public art educates without preaching. It teaches history through imagery, compassion through symbolism, and belonging through representation. For young people, especially those who see themselves reflected on the walls of their city for the first time, it becomes a mirror of possibility.

A Study by the University of Hawaii indicated that the students were empowered through the process of creating community art and making a meaningful contribution to their school. Youths gain social capital through teamwork, skill building, relationship building, and access to leadership opportunities. They develop a sense of pride and ownership for their community space while creating lifelong memories.

Each brushstroke tells young creators that they have a voice and that their city is listening.

Art as Continuum, Not Decoration

When we understand public art as a continuum rather than decoration, we honor its true power. These works are not mere aesthetics; they are archives of resistance, repositories of pride, and beacons of hope. They remind us that creativity itself is an act of freedom and that to paint, sculpt, or design in public view is to declare, we exist, we resist, and we remember.