By Lucie Lehmann
Editor’s Note: Lucie Lehmann of South Burlington is a former state director for now-retired U.S. Sen. Barbara A. Mikulski of Maryland. She is a member of the board of the Green Mountain Audubon Society.
Just in time for the gift giving season comes word of yet another honor bestowed on retired senator Patrick Leahy: The Leahy Institute for Rural Partnerships at the University of Vermont.
I admire Sen. Leahy. His contributions to Vermont are legion, beginning with all the federal aid that he steered here and that has more than a little to do with why Vermont is tattooed with his name.
But enough is enough. If we are going to honor individuals by naming things after them, we need to be more inclusive and include people who don’t already have dozens of things named after them, including an airport and a science center.
I’m certain that Leahy never asked for any of his honors, but I do wonder whether he considered refusing them. My old boss, retired Sen. Barbara A. Mikulski, D-Md., as revered in Maryland as Leahy is here, said no to every single proposal we received — and there were a lot. She didn’t want to be honored for doing her job when millions of others went unrecognized in theirs.
We can debate whether or not public servants should be honored on monuments that taxpayers pay for. What isn’t debatable is that we need more diversity in our honorees.
Just 6% of statues in the U.S. represent real women, according to University of Washington-La Crosse Art Professor Sierra Rooney. Monument Lab, a public art and history nonprofit, reports that in 2021 less than 1% of statues, plaques and parks in the U.S. were named for people of color. Martin Luther King Jr. may have over 1,000 streets named after him, but he is the exception that exposes just how dismally thin the ranks are.
The announcement of Leahy’s new honor contrasts with the American Ornithological Society’s recent decision to “change all English bird names currently named after people within its geographic jurisdiction.” It did this both to redress exclusionary, misogynistic and racist naming practices and to intentionally make birding and conservation more inclusive, especially to a younger generation of birders.
The ornithological society announced that henceforth it will focus on renaming birds to better describe their characteristics, so as to make identification easier. Most people can picture what a Ruby-Throated Hummingbird might look like, whereas a Wilson’s Warbler doesn’t describe its attributes at all.
By removing all eponymous bird names, rather than selectively deciding which were deemed culturally appropriate for this era, the ornithological society crafted a wise solution that I wish the National Audubon Society had adopted when it decided earlier this year to retain its name.
That it did so after a review sparked by scholar scientist Dr. Drew Lanham and others unearthed not just Audubon’s history as a slave owner, but his execrable conservation practices, boggles the mind. Rather than focusing on what it does — champion and protect birds — the organization made it about Audubon’s name and brand.
The decision prompted the resignation of three of its national board members and a growing grassroots movement to rename local affiliated chapters, including in Vermont (though official state chapters must keep the name), that I predict will eventually force the national organization to reverse its position.
We don’t need to recall only egregious wrongs and obvious historical anachronisms in naming to reconsider how, when, and even if they are appropriate. Many descriptive names can’t be improved upon, like Otter Creek or the Green Mountains. But when we do honor groups or individuals, let’s do so thoughtfully and inclusively, rather than elevating one slice of society and ignoring the rest of it.
What if educational institutions developed criteria about when to name buildings and involved their populace, including their faculty, staff, and students, in that process? It could be transformative and might move away from honoring mostly wealthy donors.
And what if towns and cities had nominating commissions that actively solicited and reviewed submissions when there was a naming opportunity? The democratization of the process could provide not just teachable moments, but it could reenergize participation at a local level and engender community pride.
Inviting all voices to have a say would surely yield deserving individuals or groups who otherwise would never be considered, from longtime dedicated community volunteers to trailblazing women and people of color whose contributions have historically been marginalized. I’m not trying to be the Grinch that steals anyone’s Christmas, but if we continue to name streets and monuments and buildings after individuals, then we have to care enough not just to insist that honorees represent the diversity of America today, but to become the driving force to make it so.
