Preserving the Past: The Case of "The Life of Washington"
How a controversial mural invites us to confront history, race, and the stories we choose to remember.
An educator reflects on the power of public art to challenge, provoke, and preserve collective memory.
“The Life of Washington,” a series of frescoes at George Washington High School in San Francisco, includes images of enslaved laborers and a slain Native American—depictions that have sparked emotional debate among students, parents, and the public.
— Jim Wilson, The New York Times
Walking through a school hallway, we rarely stop to question what the walls are saying. Yet sometimes, the art surrounding us tells a story we were never meant to see clearly. At George Washington High School in San Francisco, that story stretches across thirteen painted panels—a vision of America’s founding that refuses to look away from the truth. Within Victor Arnautoff’s frescoes, heroism and harm stand side by side, reminding us that the past cannot be honored without being examined.
The Artist and His Vision
In 1935–1936, the Russian-American painter and art professor Victor Arnautoff was commissioned through the WPA’s Federal Art Project to create a mural series for the newly constructed George Washington High School in San Francisco. This initiative was part of a broader effort to provide employment and cultural enrichment during the Great Depression.
Arnautoff, who had studied under Diego Rivera and embraced social realism, created a sweeping narrative of America’s first president through thirteen fresco panels. While the murals chronicle George Washington’s life, two panels in particular have ignited decades of controversy. One depicts enslaved African Americans harvesting wheat at Mount Vernon. Another portrays the body of a slain Native American.
Confronting the Controversy
These panels, though rooted in historical fact, have raised concerns about their emotional impact—especially on minority students attending the school. In her article, Sarah B. writes:
“The mural is a clear depiction of slavery in the United States and of George Washington as a slave owner.”
For some, these images are painful reminders of oppression; for others, they are opportunities for truth-telling.
Preserving the Dialogue
And yet others argue that removal would erase an opportunity to confront history rather than glorify it. Sarah B. also notes that “others argue that Arnautoff’s intention with his paintings was to present the realities of U.S. history that were, and still are, often whitewashed.”
Journalist James P. Sutton, in his article “It’s Curtains for a George Washington Mural in San Francisco. Or Paint, or Panels. Just Hide It!” offers a reminder about Arnautoff’s intention:
“One might assume this was a fresco that glorified the treatment of Native Americans and whitewashed the history of slavery. The exact opposite, in fact. The mural was created by a Russian émigré named Victor Arnautoff, an actual Communist who painted in the social-realist style. Connecting Washington with slavery and the killing of Indigenous peoples was unusual for the time; Arnautoff included these scenes as a critique of the Founding.”
Seeing History Clearly
Indeed, many American students don’t fully encounter the complexities and contradictions of the nation’s founding until they enter college. Before then, brutal truths about colonialism, slavery, and genocide are often glossed over, if mentioned at all.
As an educator, I believe these murals should be preserved as historical artifacts. They should not be glorified—but neither should they be erased. Instead, they should be utilized as educational tools to foster open dialogue among students about history, race, and public memory.
These murals can serve as a visual gateway into critical discussions not only about the Founding Fathers, but also about the WPA era, the Great Depression, and the legacy of social realism in American art.
Yes, George Washington was a foundational figure—but he was also a flawed man. These murals, in all their complexity, invite us to confront that truth.
They don’t ask us to celebrate the injustice—they ask us to see it. That alone makes them worth preserving. The murals remain on the walls of the school, but their message reaches far beyond it: history, unvarnished, still has lessons to teach us—if we have the courage to look.
Author's Note:
This essay was written as part of my classroom unit on Memory, Monuments, and Historical Debate. I use this piece with my students to examine how art, history, and public memory intersect—and how the stories we choose to display in public spaces reveal what a society values, and what it has tried to forget.
As an educator, I believe public art holds the power to spark dialogue, empathy, and healing. These murals remind us that teaching history is not about perfect heroes—it’s about honest remembering, and the conversations that arise when we’re willing to see the past as it truly was.
History asks us to look again—to see what time has tried to fade. I wrote this piece for my students, who remind me daily that remembrance is not only about the past, but about how we choose to move forward together.
Reflection Prompt:
As you read, consider your own experience with public art, monuments, or memorials. What stories do they tell—and what stories still wait to be seen, heard, or remembered?
Sources:
Sarah B., "Historic WPA Murals at George Washington High School Are Facing Destruction Due to Controversial Depictions of Native Americans and African-Americans," Richmond District Blog, 4/9/2019.
James P. Sutton, "It's Curtains for a George Washington Mural in San Francisco. Or Paint, or Panels. Just Hide It!" National Review, 6/20/2019.
About the Creator
Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales
I love to write. I have a deep love for words and language; a budding philologist (a late bloomer according to my father). I have been fascinated with the construction of sentences and how meaning is derived from the order of words.



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