Today we’re parading, picnicking, partying, boating, fishing, setting off fireworks, playing with our kids and grand kids, and remembering our most American of holidays, “The Fourth.”
For some cool historical perspective on the potential of a democratic republic, check out a lengthy quote from the 100 Farmers blog for today. Ben Franklin is my favorite among favorite Founding Fathers.
I’m on a break between the delightful morning parade/party in my sister’s Main Street front yard and the afternoon barbecue at my house (heavy-duty fireworks are illegal in my state, although the neighbors seem to be unaware of the fact). I could comment on all the cool stuff going on at the party – it was kids; candy thrown by paraders; high school reunion time; a great buffet breakfast outdoors; the mayor, a short guy, riding in the lift basket of the extension arm of the largest engine in our local fire department waaay above the crowd (analyze that, Dr. Freud); sweat, and chugging water from frosty bottles (too early for beer).
But the history I’m also thinking about just now is about how we will look at history in our community tomorrow. The history we make today (actually, late last month).
We’re building four new elementary schools and a replacement middle school in our district. Part of that exciting effort is naming the schools. The board of ed has the final say. We commissioned a community-based committee to come up with suggestions.
Usually, school names memorialize people, indicate geographic places, or suggest an intangible, perhaps a concept. The people names are usually drawn from history, places are sort of obvious, and concepts are tricky.
The suggested school names we received from our committee were very heavy on people, light on history and place, and bereft of concepts.
Our seven-person board, with some help from our Community Relations Director, developed an exercise to help us get consensus quickly. We named four elementary schools, but held off on the middle school, which will be a landmark building in the community and the state.
We did not name a single school for a person. Surprisingly (because we can't talk about issues to be voted on prior to public meetings), the entire board had an aversion to naming schools after people.
Some board members were anxious because, although we had plenty of suggestions for the names of people from the community via the committee, and some of them had died as recently as 2007 (!), none of us had ever heard of these people and those board members didn’t feel remotely qualified to judge based on “evidence” submitted and heavy lobbying at board meetings.
A well-built school endures for a long time. Recently dead people can lose their reputations in a heart-beat. “Time will tell” applies to this decision challenge.
My own feeling is, and this is where my thought for today began, that if named for a person, that person should have been in the ground for 100 plus years, and their reputations should have endured graduate-level historical research. In addition to that, I don’t feel that we’re actually naming the school for the individual, but what that person represents to the community in terms of commonly held values or ideas.
My Dad was the finest man and teacher I ever knew. I studied Latin II with him as a sophomore in high school in addition to having him as a mentor for forty-two years. He’s been gone for twenty years now and I still miss him. I’d love to see his name on a school, but outside the educational community and the students whose lives he influenced, he’s not well-known. So there’s no common cultural evocation of the integrity, compassion, professionalism, and kindness that were my Dad's most endearing traits. I'm not upset that we won't be naming a school after my Dad, and so far, I haven't heard any complaints from the folks who advocated for other persons' names.
It was easy for me to restrict my choices to a menu of geographic place names, historical place or people names, and concept names. Those potential school names have to have significant meaning to every child that steps in the door, and that means, well, shared cultural meaning.
