A Monumental Moment: Why the 12-Foot Black Woman in Times Square Matters
By Edrea Davis – A 12-foot bronze Black woman now stands tall in the heart of Times Square—and baby, it’s about time.
Created by British sculptor Thomas J Price, this breathtaking statue is part of a series called Grounded in the Stars and will be on display through June 17, 2025. She is powerful. She is present. She is unapologetically there. Amid the neon glare, tourist chaos, and towering ads, this sister stands in stillness, taking up space like she was born to. Because she was.
To see a statue of an everyday, unbothered, non-performative Black woman in one of the most visible public spaces on Earth? That’s not just art. That’s correction. That’s progress. That’s what so many of our ancestors prayed for: a world where we are not hidden or distorted, but honored.
And yet, not everyone is celebrating.
While some of us see ourselves reflected in her stance, her form, her strength—others see offense. Racists have hurled the usual insults: mocking her size, questioning her worth, demanding she be taken down. That’s expected. That’s America doing what it does when Blackness dares to be bold and visible.
What stings more is the backlash from some of our own.
Some Black folks looked at her and felt shame instead of pride. They questioned her message, or simply dismissed her presence as unworthy of the spotlight she was given. Some even claimed her voluptuousness was body shaming. I have to ask—why?
Why, when the world finally pauses to honor the everyday sister who walks through Times Square every single day, do some of us flinch?
Why, when a Black woman is sculpted not as a spectacle, but as sovereign, do some of us recoil instead of rejoice?
This is the burden of internalized oppression—it sneaks into our spirits, whispers lies about our bodies, our value, our right to be seen. We’ve been told for so long that we’re “too much” or “not enough,” that when we see ourselves reflected in glory, we confuse it for mockery.
But that statue is not a joke. It is not a threat. It is not a mistake. It is the antithesis of the lies that creep into our subconscious when we see ourselves.
It is a monument.
A monument to the uncelebrated. A tribute to the aunties, the caregivers, the girls walking home from work, the women the world too often ignores. She doesn’t beg for validation. She simply exists—with dignity, with poise, with her head held high.
So yes, I am proud. And yes, I am protective.
Because representation matters. Not just the curated kind—but the real kind. The kind that says Black women do not have to shrink, smile, or struggle to be worthy of reverence. The kind that plants us in the center of the frame—not as symbols, but as people. As powerful, complex, beautiful beings.
Thomas J Price gave us a gift. A mirror. A moment. A message: You are seen. You are worthy. You belong here.
So while others rage and recoil, let us rejoice because that 12-foot sister in Times Square is doing exactly what she was meant to do—stand her ground with power and make the world look up.