For the
past several years, the Fairfax County School board has been enmeshed in a
debate about what to do about the name of my alma mater: J.E.B. Stuart High School. General
J.E.B. Stuart was a dashing cavalry officer who died in service of the
Confederate army. Since the 1980s, when I attended, the high school has been
one of the most ethnically diverse and stably racially integrated in the United
States. Not
only are there white and black students in significant numbers, but many students
with family backgrounds in Asia and a majority from Latino heritage and origin.
Photos suggest that the school
continues also to have a significant Muslim population whose presence is not
reflected in demographic data.
The arguments for dropping or
retaining the school’s name are heated. Two of the most common reasons cited
for keeping Stuart’s name on the school are that we cannot change history and
the costs associated with the change.
It is true that we cannot change
the past. But place, institutional, and personal names do change. Think about
the name of the place where you live. Is the word for your city or neighborhood
indigenous? The city where I work now does have an Ojibwe name that reflects
the prevalence of Anishinaabemowin
speakers in this area in the 19th century. But would the earlier Woodland
people who built Wisconsin’s effigy mounds have recognized “Milwaukee” as a
meaningful name? The airport
now named after Ronald Reagan replaced ones named for Herbert Hoover and
the place named for George Washington. In the United States, women who marry
and divorce routinely change their names, updating their identities to reflect
changes in their personal histories. In all of these cases, people have chosen
to update names, not to deny history but to reflect what is most meaningful to
them in the present.
We do not have to be ruled by decisions
made in the past. J.E.B. Stuart High School was named in 1959, as the “massive
resistance” strategy came peaked in Virginia. Massive resistance was a
political response to the 1954 Supreme Court Brown v. Board decision ordering racial desegregation of public
schools. Rather than comply, whites in Virginia shut down public schools. White
children could attend private academies. Black families made the wrenching
decision to send their children to other states in order to get their educations.
The story was different in Northern Virginia, where the postwar population had
boomed. In contrast to the rest of the state, the Fairfax County School Board
opened new schools. But no one could mistake the insult to African Americans
intended by choosing to name a school after a Confederate hero. Black students might
get a public education at J.E.B. Stuart High School, but for years afterwards
they also carried on their résumés
the name of a man who died for the principle that states could decide whether
their ancestors were property or were included in the fundamental American
value of liberty. The choice of school name was probably also a thumb in the
eye of thousands of white “carpetbaggers” who had come south to work in the
booming postwar federal government.
The second reason given against the
name change is the cost, which would allegedly eat up funds better spent
counteracting cuts to important school programs. The Fairfax County School
Board website lists $678,000 in projected costs associated with
new signage, in-school branding, athletic and band uniforms, and logo-bearing
items. This argument is more compelling but still not persuasive. As the site
also notes, items such as uniforms normally wear out and are replaced on a
regular basis, and other items fall under the purview of the work of the
booster club. The difficulty is coming up with all that money at once rather
than amortizing it over multiple budget years. Replacing signage is a one-time
cost that could potentially be covered by engaging the community and alumni in
fundraising. Further, development professionals know how to turn a crisis into
a fundraising opportunity. The school district could take advantage of the
heightened interest of alumni in this issue to send out an appeal for the funds
needed for special education, parental support, and smaller class sizes to
raise private money.
The naming
of local institutions like schools, parks, and streets reflects local values.
It is up to the Fairfax County School board to decide what it values more right
now: retaining a local heritage name that branded the school as one where black
students were second-class citizens or finding a new, less divisive name that students
and alumni can carry with pride and help them want to give back to the school
for generations to come.
