Many moons have passed since I would watch Sister Wendy Beckett and chuckle at her brazen descriptions of art from around the world. You might remember her from the PBS shows “Sister Wendy’s (fill in the blank).” If that doesn’t ring a bell, you may remember Sister Wendy from her signature chipmunk teeth, pleasant demeanor, and infectious love of art. She would spend hours discussing the history of paintings and statues from all periods in human history. And though she was a Catholic nun, her assessments were free from the trappings of the Vatican. She took great pains to educate humanity on the necessity of art. As statues fall around the US, I think of Sister Wendy.

Sister Wendy knew how much we could learn about societies gone past from the Artworks the citizens produced in their time. We’ve learned how brutal some periods were, how romantic, cold, or distant others were, we’ve learned about societies that we thought were fiction that turned out to be real, and much more. We’ve seen the ravages of tidal waves depicted in ways that teach us about geology and oceanography today. We still ponder on Easter Island and Stonehenge’s mysterious monoliths. We seek out the lost city of Atlantis and scour the world for art and writings for clues to its whereabouts. But what strikes me most at the moment is that many artworks depict slavery. We’ve learned how slaves were treated globally since the beginning of recorded history. Slaves were of every ethnicity in humanity too. Humans can be cruel, and art is often a whisper of how depraved we were and how far we have come.

I’ve heard someone in Congress relay that our Statues don’t matter during these protests ad riots. They do. They’re art. Some of our statues may feel like our national shame, but they’re more; they’re the future’s time of antiquity. A future Art Critic like Sister Mary or a future historian or critical thinking professor will ponder them, analyze them, and learn about us. They may even see more in us than we see in ourselves.

It doesn’t matter how anyone feels about a particular statue; what matters is that we find a way to save art for the sake of history. If a community feels a statue should no longer be displayed in a public square, we must find a place to keep them by exercising a vote. Lastly, if you disagree with me, ponder the following questions.

Should the Israelis and other descendants of slaves be permitted to level the Pyramids of Egypt? They were, after all, created by slaves for the glory of the Pharaohs. Should the colosseum of Rome be destroyed? It was a tomb of sadistic games for the glory of Rome’s people that destroyed the lives of many slaves and prisoners from all over Europe, North Africa, and Asia minor. After the fall of the Roman Empire, some unfortunate men and women from Europe were enslaved by Moors in Northern Africa and the Ottoman Empire. Does that give Europe free reign to tear down all signs of its occurrence? In Asia, Slavery was just as prevalent; there are monuments to emperors that littered the lands with bodies that still stand. Should they be torn down? Should we take back that collective deep gasp we all had when the Taliban blew up the 1500-year-old statues of Buddha in Afghanistan? I don’t think anyone knows if they were built from the piety of devout followers or by slaves. I can go on and on about these horrors that are recorded in the world’s art. Art is the legacy of all humanity. We create beauty and terror, it’s who we are, and we need to remember it to reach who we want to be in the future—our best selves.