Five more historical figures have been hauled into the court of public opinion, found guilty of being either slaveholders, Confederates or segregationists, and sentenced to unnaming.
All five have their names affixed to Virginia community colleges, although not for much longer. Three schools are already in the process of changing their names — Lord Fairfax that operates four locations in the northern Shenandoah Valley and Piedmont, John Tyler in Chesterfield County, and Thomas Nelson in Hampton.
Two others have local boards that want to keep their names — Dabney S. Lancaster in Clifton Forge and Patrick Henry in Martinsville — which has prompted the state board to urge them to think about that again.
In the past, we’ve suggested the standard for naming (or un-naming) should be what the person is best known for. By that measure, Patrick Henry would stay but Dabney S. Lancaster would go. Henry is best known for his fiery speech in favor of independence — “give me liberty or give me death” — not the fact that his concept of liberty only went so far. Indeed, he came to despise slavery — he called it “totally repugnant” — and urged its abolition, even as he continued to own fellow humans. History is complicated.
People are also reading…
Lancaster’s story is much less so: He was state superintendent of public instruction but was actively involved in efforts to keep Virginia schools segregated during the Massive Resistance era. Henry tried to do the right thing, even if he didn’t always live up to his own ideals. Lancaster very much did the wrong thing. That’s how we’d weigh the scales.
Ultimately, though, we’re not here today to argue whether the names should stay or go but rather what names should be adopted if — more likely when — the original names are abandoned.
We’ll begin with some advice for Lord Fairfax. This is a perfect opportunity for Virginia to name something after John Underwood.
We’ve related Underwood’s story several times before: He was the state’s best-known abolitionist before the Civil War.
For those anti-slavery view, he was threatened with physical harm and forced to leave the state. The leader of that vigilante mob was Turner Ashby, the future Confederate cavalry officer who now has a high school named after him in Rockingham County.
Underwood has nothing, except this legacy: After the war, he chaired the convention that wrote Virginia’s first post-war constitution. That constitution was a landmark document that mandated public schools, required elections for local government (which previously were appointed) and extended the vote to Black men (Underwood pushed to allow women to vote but delegates wouldn’t go that far).
For his troubles, Underwood was defamed in a generation of state textbooks, which taught school children that he was a “carpetbagger” and “fortune hunter” (he was neither) who told “false tales about the cruelty of Virginians” toward the previously enslaved.
Lord Fairfax would be the ideal naming opportunity because its service area includes Clarke County, where Underwood farmed and practiced law until he was chased out and eventually had his property confiscated by the state.
As for Patrick Henry, if the school’s name must be changed, then it should be renamed after former Gov. Gerald Baliles.
Baliles is one of the few governors since World War II who hasn’t had something named after him. Here’s a way to rectify that. He also grew up in Patrick County, part of the school’s service territory.
As governor in the 1980s, Baliles was best known as “the transportation governor” but his legacy extends far beyond that. Even before the internet, he saw world that was starting to change and wanted to position Virginia to be a participant in that new global economy.
In his view, that required a better educated workforce. He pushed for more foreign-language instruction and international studies in the state’s schools. Some saw that as yet another case of a politician meddling in the state’s classroom. But Baliles saw it as part of his drive to make Virginia globally competitive.
“If we can find new markets, but we can’t communicate with the people and don’t understand who they are and what motivates them, then we won’t be able to sell [to] them,” he told The Roanoke Times at the time. Baliles sounds even more prescient today.
A year before his death in 2019, Baliles addressed the State Council of Higher Education for Virginia and called attention to what he called the problem of “two Virginias” — a prospering suburban one, and a rural one that’s falling behind. If rural Virginia were a separate state, he said, “it would be tied for dead last with Mississippi and West Virginia for educational attainment levels — dead last for citizens with high school diplomas; dead last for citizens with college degrees.”
Meanwhile, the rest of Virginia would rank second in the country. He called for a “Marshall Plan” to raise the educational levels in rural Virginia. Renaming a community college in rural Virginia won’t accomplish that, but would, at least, honor his mission.
As for Dabney S. Lancaster, an obvious new name would be geographical: Alleghany Highlands. At least that comes without any historical baggage. But we can think of at least two other possible names that have a historical connection to the region — Roger Arliner Young and Norvel Lee.
Despite the unusual first name, Young was a woman — and Virginia has only one and a half colleges named after women (the University of Mary Washington and the College of William & Mary). Young was also the first Black woman in the United States to earn a doctorate in zoology.
Her involvement with the region was admittedly slight — she was born in Clifton Forge but moved away as a child — but the fact remains she was born there and went on to make a name for herself both in zoology and in civil rights.
Lee has a deeper connection: He was born in northern Botetourt County and figured in a landmark civil rights case in Alleghany County that helped desegregate train service.
He also became the first Black Virginian to win a gold medal in the Olympics — boxing in the 1952 games — and spent a career as an educator in Washington, D.C. Botetourt author Ken Conklin and former Roanoke Mayor Nelson Harris are currently leading an effort to secure a historical marker to Lee. That ought to happen. But why should that be the only way the region belatedly honors an important son?
Or, let’s turn this around: If we don’t name these schools after Underwood, Baliles, Young or Lee, what will we name after them?