Almost all the buildings here are named after a person. We study at Sterling Memorial Library, and we eat at the Schwarzman Center and we sleep in colleges named after people. In some cases, one name is not enough, we need two or even three names to be listed, as in Sheffield-Sterling-Strathcona Hall. Even the individual study rooms of Bass have been parceled out to their maximum and gardens, foundations and plaques adorn the background of our campus.
But in the rush of college life, we rarely observe or consider the names that loom over us. In the 320 years of Yale’s existence, there have been scores of alumni who have donated immense resources to their alma mater. In turn, many of them have their names permanently imprinted into our daily lives. But though their names are in every area, their memory has become almost invisible. The naming of areas and buildings should reflect the people who demonstrated the values and contributions that we admire, instead of donors no one bothers to remember.
To name is our slight attempt to give that person a piece of immortality. Even though the named person will eventually die, their name, etched into stone, will not. And that action should not be trivialized by having that being granted to the largest bidder. The values that Yale claims to memorialize by dedicating a statue to Nathan Hale for his courage in the Revolutionary War or a college to Pauli Murray for her civil rights activism is undermined. Either the values we prioritize are centered in the names that surround us, or it is simply appeasing a donor who will soon be forgotten.
John William Sterling, for example, is not widely known for his own career, but because he shares the same name with the grandest buildings here. Though he donated 15 million dollars — $200 million adjusted for inflation — Sterling’s identity is lost to nearly everyone. He also lost his name. Sterling is not the name of a person to us, it is the name of the library we learn and work in.
Stephen Schwarzman ’69, CEO of Blackstone, has also had his name placed across campus in recent years. The building that he gave his name to, the Schwarzman Center, opened its doors at the start of this academic year, and yet his own memory is already starting to fade. Many incoming students don’t even know who Schwarzman is. The events, the issues and the context for his impact have been placed in the past tense. The person and the background of him have become second place to the area where students and faculty get food each week.
The names that adorn the places in the University should reflect the collective role we ought to have in shaping the direction of Yale. Furthermore, the addition and changing of the names of buildings and places should follow the evolution of what we desire to memorialize. Simply naming locations and halls after a prominent donor with no other qualification actively opposes this. Not only does it give an equivalence of significance between a financial gift and the contributions that others made, it is self-defeating. Few will identify the person behind the donation of a new hall, and even fewer will bother to place any meaning on what they did. Instead, when we consider naming new places and buildings we should remember the power that it holds and make sure it has a continuous impact.
EZANA TEDLA is a first year in Jonathan Edwards College. Contact him at ezana.tedla@yale.edu.