As a wannabe “teenage dirtbag” growing up in Northern Virginia, there is only one place to go with your friends on a Saturday night: the Washington Monument. You’re 16 and just got your driver’s license, so you drive 20 minutes down I-66 to the capital, park on the side of Constitution Avenue, march up the hill to the pencil and lie down, putting your feet up (with respect) on living history.
After that, you and your wannabe teenage dirtbag friends take a lap around the White House, always pausing at the entrance to the East Wing. This is where you enter when touring the White House. Since everyone’s parents work for the government, you’ve all been inside.
That was my life in high school. But when I go home this winter break, that lap will look a lot different, and that nostalgia that runs deep in my bones for simpler times will only grow stronger.
The demolition of the White House’s East Wing began Oct. 20 as part of President Donald Trump’s plan to build a ballroom that could hold over 600 people. According to his plan, the $300 million project will take up about 90,000 square feet of the White House, solving what Trump believed “every president has dreamt about”: having a massive area to “accommodate people for grand parties, State Visits etc.,” as he described on Truth Social. Within a week, the entire wing appeared to be torn down, despite Trump’s initial claims that the ballroom would be “near” the section and not interfere with it.
The ballroom is one of many examples of Trump’s effects on Washington, D.C. that are spreading beyond politics and into architecture. Trump has called the district “a dirty, crime-ridden death trap that must be taken over and properly run,” and he believes he’s done just that. When Trump deployed the National Guard to the city to lessen crime, he failed to take into account the already-decreasing crime rate. So, with troops running the place, Trump now looks at the buildings, hoping to make them just as “clean.”
The White House, often referred to as the “People’s House,” is a major architectural fixture in both the aesthetic and sentimental history of America. The demolition of the East Wing has already caused fierce backlash and criticism from Americans, largely because this is the first major change to its exterior in 83 years.
But targeting the East Wing is more than tragic — it’s historically significant. Originally constructed in 1902 and renovated in 1942, it is the public entrance to the White House. In addition to other roles, it most importantly serves as the office space for the first lady. Now, it’s gone, and in its place will come an unnecessary addition to an already messy Washington landscape.
But the East Wing is not the only architectural monument to face Trump’s wrath. In August, Trump paved over the iconic Rose Garden in a $1.9 million renovation project. The previously lush green grass — revamped by the Kennedys to provide a space for gatherings, bill signing ceremonies, press conferences, presentations and dinners — is now marred by a gray concrete slab that takes over the entire space.
Described on the White House website as “inspired by his Mar-A-Lago estate,” Trump spent the months of March to August lining every nook and cranny of the Oval Office with gold. Everything from picture frames to crown molding on the walls is caked in gold detail, giving the president’s office an inauthentic feeling of opulence that seems to intensely resemble the sitting president instead of the voice of the nation.
Beyond the White House, it seems as though all of Washington is experiencing the president’s architectural scrutiny. In late August, Trump signed Making Federal Architecture Beautiful Again, an executive order that mandates all federal buildings be built in a classical style, therefore preventing and admonishing the several brutalist towers that decorate the city.
As America celebrates its 250th anniversary next year, Trump has revealed plans to build an arch on the bridge over the Potomac River that connects the Arlington National Cemetery to Washington. The monument is inspired by the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, and while there is no mention of when the construction will begin or how much it will cost, one can only assume that it will be a showy, tacky display of wealth.
Trump is completely revamping Washington, and Americans should be worried that the damage could be so intense it’s irreparable. The looks of our capital city are everything. When leaders of foreign nations, tourists and small-town Midwesterners come to visit, they should be greeted with an accurate representation of the country: one that is rich in history, classy without compromising originality and filled with the aspects of America its citizens love. Instead, they will be met with an overly elaborate display of wealth, done by none other than a jester playing king who thinks adding gold and glitter to everything covers up his mistakes.
The East Wing is gone. So is the Rose Garden. The city’s metro may be named after Trump, the Kennedy Center censored and scorned. And Washington, as we know it, continues to experience architectural injury that may take years to repair.
If you’ve never been to our nation’s capital, I implore you to go. Even now, even in the chaos, even when she has lost her way. See Washington before it no longer resembles what it has always been: beautiful monuments, traffic-ridden roundabouts and residents so dedicated to sharing love that they’ll roll down their window as you pass by just to compliment your outfit. It’s a city that’s been through more change, strife and celebration than perhaps any other urban setting in this country — and Washington, much like its iconic Washington Monument, stands tall despite the damage.
So, hail to the Commanders, and let’s fight for the old D.C.
Yashavi Upasani is a journalism and media and screen studies combined major and deputy city editor for The News. She can be reached at [email protected].
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