Understanding the Context of the Big Hand Man
A Case Study in Memorials and Public Rhetoric
Introduction
A staple of DePaul University’s Lincoln Park campus is the overwhelmingly large statue outside the eastern entrance of the Student Center.
It is a man. He stands over 9 feet tall, assisted by a large limestone platform. His dark bronze and limestone material obscure the majority of the detailing, minus his noticeably oversized hands, which are clenched into an aggressive fist jutting out in front of him. He’s a well-known icon, a landmark on campus.
But why is this man there, and what does he have to say about DePaul?
The Function of Memorials
Memorials are a huge part of the everyday public. They’re everywhere and everything, from statues and plaques to street art murals to a bouquet on the side of the road. The intention of a memorial is memorialize; to remind the public of something, whether it evoke celebration, grief, or shame. In essence, memorials are created to ensure the public remembers.
The memorial as a rhetoric is based specifically in what is and what isn’t said. The collective knowledge of the general public is assumed to be minimal due to inconsistencies in education and general diversity. They intend to both educate and encourage curiosity, connecting the past to the present. The memorial needs to include a concise delivery of information that does not require outside research on the audience’s end, but can provoke further questioning. It is an urgent need to preserve the public memory that results in a memorial. But a memorial is not just what it is. Every choice built into its creation has a response, whether or not the responses received were intended.
An essential aspect of understanding the memorial is its site. The placement and thusly distribution of a memorial determines how much of the public is able to interact with it. It also assumes that the public that does interact with the memorial will be able to understand the meaning. Placing a memorial for a well-known figure in a very secluded area does not promote the celebration as intended. However, placing a historical event memorial in the location the event happened allows for the distribution of the memorial to align. When considering placement, the audience is in general the public, but also what people will specifically cross paths with the memorial on a regular basis.
For an example of memorial discourse, there has been much debate in recent years over more controversial memorials, ones of Confederate soldiers that promote the ‘Lost Cause’ theory and others that seek to hide the United States’ more shameful history. These memorials, while on the surface, simply appear to be statues of dead generals, actually promote a discourse on whether the dismantling of slavery was a smart choice. In other words, by keeping memorials of Confederate soldiers, it implies there is still room for discussion of their motivation for succession from the Union. There is not, obviously, but that is what the memorials invoke. Many of these memorials are placed in dominantly black neighborhoods, creating an often-hostile environment for a public who does not want to engage in such discourse. While this is a polarized example, memorials are indeed part of how the public remembers the past.
What is chosen to be remembered and how it is presented is the key rhetoric of memorialization.
Contextualizing Big Hands
Because memorials belong to the public, it makes sense that they should reflect the public’s memory. Yet, one of the most often asked questions by people visiting DePaul’s Lincoln Park campus — students and outsiders alike — is who is the big handed man? Is it an effective memorial if a question as simple as that can’t be answered just by looking at the statue?
It is true his name is spelled out on the top of the platform: Monsignor John Egan. A quote wraps around the platform below, stating “A 20th Century Priest: What are you doing for justice?”. This provides little further context for the memorial, other than it seems his big hands are advocating for action. The artist’s (Margot McMahon) page states that the statue intends to “symbolize an ongoing scholarship fund and education program at DePaul University’s Lincoln Park Campus” (2004). Still, nothing about who Egan was, and his connection to DePaul.
Only after a bit of digging (a Google search) does the true connection reveal itself: Egan attended DePaul briefly. He then went on to focus his efforts on social justice within the city of Chicago. DePaul claims Egan started and finished his career with DePaul, though no further association with DePaul is noted elsewhere. Egan’s papers are even stored at Notre Dame, where he conducted a large chunk of his work, alongside the Archdiocese of Chicago. The loose affiliation didn’t stop DePaul from commissioning the 9-and-a-half-foot statue of Egan in 2004, however, along with naming an office and a scholarship after him. Choosing to place the Egan statue in a central location, with such prominent sizing, suggests he is more significantly tied into DePaul’s history than, say, St Vincent DePaul himself.
Evaluation
So, what is the Egan statue truly remembering? A man devoted to social justice in the city of Chicago, a man who took to heart the Vincentian value of “What must be done?”. But beyond that, the Egan statue has become less recognized as a memorial and more of a landmark. A common meeting place and photo op location rather than a place to remember the man. The intersection where he lives is a four way stop, crossing Sheffield and Belden, a high traffic area.
As a memorial, the statue of Monsignor John Egan is ineffective. The public is not provided with direct context and connection to its setting at the site and cannot be expected to do follow up research. They walk away from the statue without being aware of Egan’s significance. As a landmark, however, it’s great.
He is not likely to be ignored or looked over. But will he truly be remembered?
Recommendations
In order to promote the remembrance of Egan, it would be helpful to include a plaque about his successes and missions. The plaque should be placed nearby, such on an outside wall of the Student Center, or even on the ground beneath the statue. This will provide the public with the connection between a giant man and the University.
A mock-suggestion for the plaque’s text:
This statue, built 2004, commemorates Monsignor John Egan’s commitment to social justice. His services as a priest helped Chicago become a more welcoming place for all. Egan’s legacy as a DePaul alumnus lives on through a scholarship in his name to promote social work in inner-city youth who attend DePaul.
