In February, I wrote a column for The Diamondback that advocated remembering and learning from the racist history of the University of Maryland. In particular, I focused on the facilities named for people whose actions were known to be racist, such as Eppley Recreation Center and Byrd Stadium.
Since then, several columns have advocated dropping Harry Clifton “Curley” Byrd from his perch atop the football stadium. The Student Government Association has voted in favor of changing the name, and university President Wallace Loh has established a work group to explore changing the name. However, doing so would erase both the good and the revolting in our history. We can keep the name as a reminder of the past without endorsing all of the values Byrd espoused.
Our societal values march forward, constantly improving over time. Meanwhile, Byrd lies buried in Somerset County, no longer able to learn the error of his ways. Requiring adherence to today’s standards will force us to wipe the record clean of almost all historical figures.
Our state and in turn, our university, was named as a gesture from Charles I to his French wife Henrietta Maria. Our state flag is based on the heraldry of George Calvert, first Baron Baltimore. Nothing is more un-American than hereditary titles. Article I, Section 9 of the Constitution prohibits “title(s) of nobility,” which Benjamin Franklin called “groundless and absurd”; and yet who can imagine our university without the black, gold, red and white imagery that we take so much pride in? We define our brand and constantly innovate new designs with a symbol of the British aristocracy, but we make it represent our own values. Everything we have is a building block on what came previously, but we leave behind those aspects that no longer represent us.
The Democratic Party was represented by Byrd and other racists of that era, but has evolved under the same name to become considered progressive in the present day. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. voiced views on homosexuality that we now consider antiquated, but we choose to focus on his many positive contributions. Comparing the importance of his contributions to Byrd’s is laughable, but there are few figures with a pristine past when looked at through a modern lens.
Slaveowners such as George Washington and Francis Scott Key continue to adorn buildings on our campus, as do segregation-era university officials, such as W.W. Skinner. If these are named with the spirit of focusing on how they moved this state or institution forward without ignoring their unsavory side, we can avoid the confusion that would be created by renaming most of the campus.
The focus should be on adding more symbols of progress, rather than scrubbing away memory of controversial figures. Future honors should go to such names as Elizabeth Hook, the first woman to graduate; Hiram Whittle, the first black undergraduate; and Darryl Hill, the first black athlete in the ACC.
The naming of university buildings is irrelevant if the significance is not widely known. More should be done to educate the campus community about the historic figures that made the university what it is today, including their flaws. This will paint a portrait of a pastoral agricultural school south of the Mason-Dixon Line that previously accepted only white males transforming into our modern and diverse research university.
When attending Terps home games, one sees rusty railings and stained concrete. The stadium is as old as the antiquated values of its namesake. We cannot change the fact that Harry Clifton “Curley” Byrd led the construction of the stadium that bears his name. What we can do is make sure that it continues to be enjoyed by Terps of all backgrounds, and that players on the field are viewed in the spirit of competition, rather than by the color of their skin.
If the equality we strive for today under Byrd’s name makes him roll over in his grave, then so be it.
