There’s a new monument in Times Square, and no, it’s not honoring a war hero, inventor, or civil rights icon. It’s a 12-foot bronze statue of a casually dressed, plus-sized Black woman just… standing there. Looking like she’s about to ask to speak to the manager of systemic oppression.
Because apparently, in 2025, nothing screams “progress” like immortalizing the embodiment of America’s food addiction with a slab of metal in the middle of New York’s most crowded tourist trap.
We could’ve gone with anything. Astronauts. Nurses. Single moms.
But no — we chose “unbothered plus-size queen” as the symbol of our time.
WTF Is Going On?
Let’s get the receipts:
- The statue’s called Grounded in the Stars (which sounds like a rejected astrology podcast).
- It was made by London-based sculptor Thomas J. Price.
- It’s supposed to challenge “traditional monuments” of white men like George M. Cohan and Father Duffy.
- The artist says it shows someone who “understands her worth.”
Ah yes, because nothing affirms self-worth like having the city pay to turn your body type into public spectacle. Why not just erect a giant Chick-fil-A receipt next to it and call it “Cultural Heritage”?
The idea, according to Times Square Arts, is to “amplify traditionally marginalized bodies.”
Okay. But can we talk about what we’re amplifying?
Why It Matters
This isn’t just art. It’s propaganda with a bronze patina.
We’re not promoting health. We’re not promoting ideas. We’re promoting identity as aesthetic. Fat? Black? Female? Congratulations — you’re a statue now. No resume required. Just diversity and victim points.
And don’t get it twisted — this isn’t about race or size. It’s about the absurdity of symbol over substance.
We’re fetishizing the representation of struggle without ever addressing the causes of it. Diabetes is ravaging Black communities. Food deserts, medical neglect, garbage nutrition — real problems. But instead of tackling them, we melt down some bronze and say, “See? We see you.”
Yeah, we see you. We just don’t plan to help you.
Who’s Saying What
Triggered Say:
“Finally! A statue that looks like us. This is body positivity. We’re reclaiming public space!”
Reality Says:
Cool, but can we not pretend putting a statue up solves anything? It’s like setting your house on fire and celebrating that the flames are now “inclusive.”
Deeper Dive
Let’s zoom out. You think the Romans built statues of senators because they were trying to make everyone feel seen? No — they built statues of power. Of accomplishment. You had to conquer Gaul or build an aqueduct to get immortalized in marble.
Now? You just need a Wi-Fi signal and a strong “I feel underrepresented” tweet.
This isn’t art anymore. It’s ideological taxidermy. Freeze a feeling in time, shove it into public view, and wait for claps. Meanwhile, actual societal decay — obesity, depression, surveillance, the housing crisis — gets zero airtime.
We’re decorating the Titanic as it sinks. With representation.
What Happens Next?
Don’t be surprised if we get an entire bronze Avengers lineup of intersectional icons. A nonbinary influencer. A statue of someone checking their microaggressions app. Maybe a 12-foot sculpture of someone identifying as a sentient oat milk latte.
Because we’ve confused being noticed with being noble.
And when the backlash comes — as it always does — the artist and curators will say, “That’s the point! We wanted to start a conversation.”
Great. We’re talking. Now can we talk about solutions?
Mic Drop
Here’s a radical idea: How about we build statues to people who do something?
Not just exist.
We don’t need more monuments to feelings. We need monuments to courage, intelligence, sacrifice — the stuff that builds civilizations, not just TikToks.
Otherwise, let’s just go full honesty and put up a 20-foot statue of a couch. Covered in crumbs. Wearing sweatpants. With a banner that says, “Representation Matters — Results Don’t.”