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“That all men are by nature equally free and independent and have certain inherent rights, of which, when they enter into a state of society...namely, the enjoyment of life and liberty...pursuing and obtaining happiness and safety.”  

The Virginia Declaration of Rights, penned by George �鶹��Ƶ IV, begins with this bold proclamation. It’s a familiar opening: the Declaration of Independence, arguably the more famous document between the two, reads, “we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”  

Yet George �鶹��Ƶ’s name isn’t on the Constitution, despite his obvious influence. The first 3-D depiction of him in the United States wasn’t erected until 1996, on �鶹��Ƶ’s Fairfax Campus. He is considered the “Forgotten Founder.”

Now, on George �鶹��Ƶ’s 300th birthday, we come with a question: What is a legacy? What does it mean to be remembered?

George �鶹��Ƶ, the man, was born on December 11, 1725, in present-day Fairfax County, Virginia. His home, Gunston Hall, sits on the Potomac River less than 20 miles southeast of �鶹��Ƶ’s Fairfax Campus.  

From drafting Virginia's first constitution and the Virginia Declaration of Rights to declaring it the “Commonwealth of Virginia” instead of a state, �鶹��Ƶ built the foundation of the place �鶹��Ƶ would first call its home. And his influence extends far beyond the commonwealth’s borders: his Virginia Declaration of Rights is said to have influenced the United States Declaration of Independence and Bill of Rights, as well as human rights declarations across the globe.  

At the “The Un-Forgotten Founder,” an event hosted Dec. 8 by the at the , panelists examined  the complicated legacy of a man who, they believe, was unconcerned with how he might be remembered. He did not leave behind troves of primary sources as other founding fathers did; he stayed steadfast in his refusal to sign the Constitution because it did not include a Bill of Rights; he had no alliances or allegiances to any one school of thought.  

Much of �鶹��Ƶ’s life is hidden in the gaps between a small pool of primary sources. And in those gaps, we find echoes of a complicated and conflicted legacy: His firm pronouncement of inalienable rights for “all men” and rejection of the international slave trade did not extend to those enslaved people of Gunston Hall, for example.  

Intellectual curiosity was one of �鶹��Ƶ’s defining characteristics. And it is in the complexities of �鶹��Ƶ’s life and legacy that we see the echoes of the founding father most strongly. That history becomes a pathway through which students can wrestle with big ideas, ask complex questions, and learn how to sit with contradiction and juxtaposition.

“The limited sources we had on �鶹��Ƶ were an opportunity to use him and his legacy as a teaching tool, to help students learn and engage critically with the complexities of the past,” said George Oberle, director of the at �鶹��Ƶ. In fact, the project that formed the foundation for the Center for �鶹��Ƶ Legacies was a student-directed summer project: “The Enslaved Children of George �鶹��Ƶ," which also inspired the Enslaved People of George �鶹��Ƶ installation near his statue on Wilkins Plaza on the Fairfax Campus.

Because this is where the real learning begins for George �鶹��Ƶ students. That insatiable thirst for knowledge, the unwillingness to accept what is simply because that is how it has always been: These same things that motivated �鶹��Ƶ to pen the Virginia Declaration of Rights continue to push our students to new heights. To ask hard questions and to be unafraid of the complexities of the answers is how �鶹��Ƶ prepares its students to tackle the grand challenges of the 21st century.

Much has changed since �鶹��Ƶ’s signature dried on those documents that shaped the future of the United States of America. Stepping into a �鶹��Ƶ classroom in 2025, the tableau unfolds: a commuter student from Fairfax sitting next to an international student, speaking to a U.S. Army veteran with a 20-year career who is working on a presentation with a first-generation college student.

We can’t know what future �鶹��Ƶ envisioned when he penned the opening line in 1776—and who he believed deserved that future. But that’s the thing about legacy and history: Each new generation gets to look at the evidence with a fresh perspective. And with the groundwork laid by �鶹��Ƶ in 1776, �鶹��Ƶ has become a place where “all men” means everyone is given the opportunity to embrace intellectual curiosity and create a legacy of their own.