Yale’s frustrating decision to keep name of Calhoun College misled

Nineteenth century statesman John C. Calhoun, best known as South Carolina’s pro-slavery champion, is perhaps one of the America’s most controversial figures. His name has become synonymous with Southern secession, the Confederacy and America’s heinous institution of slavery. Yet, in spite of criticism from the Yale’s student body, Yale University president Peter Salovey announced on April 28 that the name of the residential college called Calhoun would remain.

In his email addressed to the Yale community, Salovey decided that “removing Calhoun’s name obscures the legacy of slavery rather than addressing it” and “masks this past, downplaying the lasting effects of slavery and substituting a false and misleading narrative.”

But the Yale administration has failed to understand that keeping Calhoun — essentially extending an honorary gesture toward the man who best symbolized white supremacy — is neither an examination of history nor appropriate.

Regardless of whether Salovey and other administrators judged scholarly value in retaining Calhoun, the fact is that John C. Calhoun continues to be paid more honor than he deserves. The system of naming institutions after historical figures is meant to be honorific. For the same reason that several places in South Africa have been renamed to remove Apartheid leaders — Verwoerdburg, named after “architect of Apartheid” Hendrik Verwoerd, was changed to Centurion in 1994 — Calhoun does not belong on a residential college in Yale.

Moreover, contrary to Salovey’s claim, naming a residence hall after Calhoun does absolutely nothing to engage with the legacy of slavery. There are numerous other approaches available for students and faculty to discuss history in context; especially at a university as resourceful as Yale, such academic options are not lacking.

Indeed, maintaining Calhoun is a slap in the face for students seeking to examine the scars of slavery. His symbolic name hoists a Confederate flag on campus; just as celebrating emblems of the Confederacy “for educational purposes” is both unnecessary and inappropriate, keeping Calhoun is extremely problematic.

So for students and faculty determined to make this country a better place, why does the Yale administration still reserve tokens of honor for men who represent racist and backward ideas?

The name of Calhoun residential college does not enhance student understanding of America’s most vile institution; instead, it condemns the 400 or so Yale undergraduates every year since 1933 — including, undoubtedly, students of African American heritage — to live under a roof whose name celebrates one of America’s most vehement upholders of slavery.

To declare that this issue is not personal is to dismiss the concern, discomfort and hurt of thousands of individual students who pass through the doors of Calhoun College.

Salovey wrote in his email that “retaining the name forces us to learn anew and confront one of the most disturbing aspects of Yale’s and our nation’s past,” but he failed to realize that there are more acceptable and less acceptable ways of doing so. Calhoun College falls deep into the latter category.

Yet, for all of the Yale administration’s adamance on behalf of keeping Calhoun, administrators are not suffering from a dearth of innovative ideas. Salovey proposed “an art installation [on Calhoun College grounds] that will confront Calhoun’s ideas” — a project that, unlike the preservation of his name, actually interacts with history on an insightful level.

Furthermore, the call to rename Calhoun is not a demand to erase the ugly parts of history, but a mature request to end the celebration of historical figures who represent abominable values.

America’s educational institutions are responsible for the proper instruction and care of its students. When Yale made its decision to keep Calhoun College, the administration failed both standards.

But looking beyond, the concern and compassionate dedication of Yale’s student body are perhaps the most promising consequences of this decision. Yale’s decree marks a disappointing setback in the record of student activism — but the cause is far from over.

Great change begins on college campuses, university lawns and high school classrooms. As awareness and understandings change between generations, it’s only a matter of time before schools like Yale disavow the honors given to those who upheld the ugliest institution of American history.