When Art Becomes Evidence: Murals, Power, and the Politics of Erasure
- Rose LeCompte
- 44 minutes ago
- 8 min read
by Rose LeCompte (she/her)
Intersection of Art and Activism
When the city of Pomona ordered the removal of a mural calling for an end to institutional violence, it was not just art being erased; it was silencing protest. The mural carried urgent messages born from the 2020 Black Lives Matter Uprising: “Defund Pomona Police” and “End Institutional Violence.” For city officials, these words were too provocative, but for the community, they were an act of truth-telling.
Art activism lives at the crossroads of creativity and resistance. It uses the emotional force of the arts with the strategic planning of activism necessary to bring about social change. This combination creates moments where emotion moves into action (Gupta 1029). In this framework, art is not passive; it becomes a tool of persuasion, capable of transforming empathy into action. This concept highlights the political weight of public art; its ability to transform feelings into action.
Yet that same power often provokes institutional anxiety. When art challenges authority, the response is frequently regulations or restrictions disguised as neutrality. Across the U.S., this tension between expression and control defines the relation between public art and law in an ongoing struggle that frequently occurs in the streets of LA and beyond.
The controversy began when organizers at Gente Organizada, a grassroots organization in Pomona, displayed a mural on a public-facing wall of their community center depicting phrases such as “Defund Pomona Police” and “End Institutional Violence” (Gente Organizada). Created for members of the Black, Indigenous, and Latinx communities, the work sought to visualize the collective pain and hope during the 2020 Black Lives Matter movement. According to city records, Pomona officials cited Gente under the municipal sign ordinance, alleging a violation typically reserved for commercial advertising (The Pomonan). This bureaucratic move reframed a protest artwork as an administrative infraction. Jesús Sánchez, Gente’s Executive Director, explained that “the city was weaponizing policy to suppress our right to free expression”(The Pomonan), revealing how systems used to maintain order can instead be used to silence voices. The case questioned whether public art created on private property could still be protected under free speech when it was confronting government power. The mural and lawsuit demonstrate how censorship rarely appears as directly prohibitive and often hides behind neutral language. By hiding its suppression behind technical legal language, the city turned an emotional act of protest into a simple paperwork issue and in doing so, limited genuine democratic expression.
Deconstructive Art in a Reconstructive SpacePage 0Page 01
To grasp the full meaning of this mural in the context of artivism, the framework presented by Jiya Gupta helps break down art activism as either reconstructive or deconstructive. Art has long been a societal tool for both dismantling oppressive systems and envisioning new possibilities, with its impact often categorized as reconstructive or deconstructive. Reconstructive artistic activism “aims to build a new cultural option upon the ruins of outworn systems.” In contrast, deconstructive activism “aims to tear down outmoded worldviews often through irony and parody” (Gupta 1022). These two forms coexist in public art, creating a dialogue between cynicism and hope.
The mural displayed at Gente Organizada in Pomona, California, exemplifies how deconstructive artistic activism can challenge institutional powers even within a space designed to foster civic unity. Installed on the exterior wall of the organization center in Pomona, the piece consisted of two large black and white panels documenting the 2020 protests. One panel centered a protestor holding a sign reading “Tim Sandoval Defund Pomona Police,” while the other resembled a contact sheet of black and white stills arranged in a grid that visually showcased a sequence of resistance (Gente Organizada ). The journalistic aesthetic replaced the traditionally painted style with realism. This grounded the mural in lived experience rather than colorful metaphor. The stark grayscale palette and composition of the images evoked of tone of evidence. This framed the protest not as chaos but more like testimony from Gente and the community Gente serves.
This act of visual reclamation demonstrates Gente Organizada’s dual approach to activism, even if they didn't release this approach at the time. Deconstructively, the mural challenges the idea that civic systems are neutral by highlighting how local systems often suppress rather than serve the community. Reconstructively, its placement along public-facing streets on the outside of the Gente’s community building transforms an image of resilience into one of empowerment. The same walls targeted by the city’s enforcement codes now have the potential to become a canvas of belonging and can create a space for art centered around community, voice, and self-definition.
Ultimately, the Gente Organizada case reveals that the power of art lies not only in its imagery but in its capacity to redefine public space itself. Deconstructive ideologies challenge who gets to speak and what can be seen, proving that even when erased, the memory of its presence stays as a form of resistance. This moment invites us to consider the next phase of artistic activism where the reconstructive work can rebuild dialogue, trust, and a stronger community, effectively demonstrating the power of community art.
When Policy Becomes a Weapon
The conflict around Gente Organizada’s mural shows how art can be part of the battleground for constitutional rights. When art exposes injustices, those with power often respond not with dialogue but with regulations. The city of Pomona cited Gente Organizada for violating a “sign ordinance,” claiming the mural was an unauthorized advertisement ( The Pomonan). This bureaucratic move disguised suppression as technical enforcement.
According to the lawsuit filed with the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), the mural “was a youth-led collaborative effort by Black, Indigenous, and Latinx organizers and artists,” (The Pomonan) reflecting their experiences during the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests against racial bias in policing. The mural's imagery of protestors holding signs demanding accountability and justice was rooted in experience not abstract policy. Yet the city treated this expression as a violation of zoning codes, labeling it as an unauthorized “sign. Officials issued citations and fines despite the fact that the artwork stood on Gente Organizadas' privately owned property, with full consent from the organization. Jesus Sanchez, Gente’s executive director, stated, “The City of Pomona is attempting to block our right to free speech, they have threatened our youth center, and have weaponized city code so we cannot exercise our right to artistic expression” (The Pomonan). The action of the city directly contradicted the First Amendment’s protection of political expression on private property.
By redefining political art as an administrative enfraction, the city changed a constitutional issue into a regulatory one. This strategic use of law blurred the boundary between civic order and censorship, which is an ongoing battle in the realm of public art.
Ultimately, the Pomona case exposed a critical truth: censorship rarely appears as direct silencing but comes hidden within the language of policies. What began as a creative act of community expression was recast as a code violation, showing how legal frameworks can be twisted to further inequalities. This tension between expression and control sets the stage for understanding how Gente Organizadas' legal victory reshapes local policy.
A Victory For Expression
After months of legal pressure, Gente Organizada reached a settlement with the City of Pomona. The agreement required the city to waive all citations, revise its ordinances, and recognize the right of property owners to display murals without arbitrary censorship. This outcome restored the mural’s legitimacy and affirmed the community’s right to free expression.
The case also established a symbolic and legal precedent: that political art, when authorized by property owners, falls under the full protection of both constitutional free speech and copyright law. While upheld during the administrative hearing, the city's earlier decision was overturned (The Pomonan). This marked a clear shift in power from bureaucratic enforcement to artistic expression and community voice. For Pomona’s artists and youth, the ruling signaled that art is not only cultural expression but also civic participation.
The Pomona resolution thus serves as more than a local win; it’s a model for reclaiming community voice through policy reform. Yet Pomona’s case is not isolated. Similar conflicts have unfolded across the U.S., where city governments have repeatedly blurred the line between regulation and repression.
A Mirror in D.C.
The suppression of protest art doesn't always happen through local code enforcement; sometimes it's through much larger laws. In 2025, the U.S. House introduced Bill H.R. 1774, which would have withheld key federal funds from Washington, D.C., unless the city removed the Black Lives Matter street mural, renamed the site “Liberty Plaza,” and deleted the phrase “Black Lives Matter” from official materials (Andrew, NPR). This federal intervention marked a shift in scale, from municipal enforcement to national coercion, revealing how policy can be used to restrict expression and enforce ideological conformity.
This push to erase a public artwork speaks volumes about its power, not just as art, but as a lasting symbol of the movement. Its very existence has challenged dominant narratives so effectively that lawmakers are now attempting to remove it, proving how deeply it has disrupted, redefined, and reconstructed public dialogue around race, justice, and power. This example demonstrates how artistic activism can provoke measurable shifts in societal norms. What was once considered radical street art is now viewed by some as dangerous to the status quo, highlighting how the normalization of resistance threatens power structures.
Over time, artistic statements that begin on sidewalks or murals enter broader cultural consciousness, influencing how communities define justice, equity, and inclusion.
The Black Lives Matter mural became a visual monument to collective resistance. Its bold typography and public visibility, and proximity to the US capital, transformed the D.C. streetscape into a site of national reckoning. Artistic activism balances deconstructive and reconstructive power. It dismantles oppressive narratives while envisioning new forms of belonging.
Deconstructively, the mural exposed systemic racism and state violence; reconstructively, it reimagined public space as a platform for solidarity and accountability. This dual function explains why such art provokes governmental backlash: it doesn’t just critique power, it reforms the cultural imagination around it.
The D.C. case shows that this struggle over protest art is not just local, it’s systemic. From Pomona’s zoning codes to Congress’s funding threats, art that successfully reshapes public discourse often faces new attempts at control. Yet every act of removal only proves its impact. Artistic activism continues to dismantle outdated systems while inspiring new narratives of justice, equity, and community power. Going forward, protecting this kind of expression means more than defending murals. It means ensuring that laws and policies actively support art’s role in expanding democracy, not restricting it.
Painting What Power Can’t Erase
The story unfolding in Washington, D.C., about the Black Lives Matter mural being painted over because of federal pressure, feels far too familiar. Just like in Pomona, those in power used the abstract legal language of “policy” and “ordinance” to cover what they couldn’t control. They removed more than just art; they tried to erase the voices of a community made visible by the power of public art. Both movements remind us that pubic art isn't just for decoration, it demands to be seen, and that visibility often disrupts the larger systems.
For Gente, the D.C. story is a reminder that what happens on the streets of one city can ripple across the entire country. It shows how our murals don't just reflect a moment, but they shape movements. The question now isn’t just how to protect public art but how to keep building it in a way that makes censorship harder to justify.
Maybe in the case of Gente, their next form of artivism can do more than respond; it can build. It can use the lessons of reconstruction vs deconstruction and the actions in D.C. to design with intention. By pairing bold critique with messages that unite, creating art that's harder to silence because it builds community. What if the next wall isn't just painted by the people but with them? That's how Gente could turn the resistance into reconstruction, by transforming every brushstroke into a declaration of belonging.
Rose LeCompte is a first year student at Pitzer, passionate about art and has spent the last two years studying how art can be used as tool for activism.
