Columnist Andrea Ayvazian: ‘Naming is important’

I live on Columbus Avenue in Northampton. When our son, now 32, was young, he and I had a little ritual we did every Columbus Day.

Before breakfast, we took our magic markers and lettered INDIGENOUS PEOPLES’ WAY on a piece of cardboard. Then, armed with string and a stepladder, we walked to the end of our street where Columbus Avenue meets South Street — that’s where you will find a street sign marking the corner. Standing on our stepladder, we positioned our sign over the words “Columbus Ave.”

Even as a little boy, our son understood that we did this annual ritual because even though Christopher Columbus is widely honored for “discovering America,” Columbus had, we explained, actually arrived on an already inhabited land. We talked to our young son about how Columbus brought great pain and hardship to the Indigenous peoples who had lived on the land for centuries.

After leaving our street-changing sign up for a day, we went back with our stepladder to take it down. Often it had already been removed, and our son wondered why.

Naming is important. When my husband and I gave our son the hyphenated last name Klare-Ayvazian (although it is endlessly long), we were identifying, right in his name, his Irish, Jewish and Armenian heritage. Naming is important.

Since the protests and social justice activism that have erupted with ferocious power this spring, naming has become a significant issue — for military bases, cities, towns and colleges. Despite President Donald Trump’s strong objections, Congress is considering forcing the Pentagon to change the names of several Army bases named for prominent military leaders of the Confederacy during the Civil War, including Fort Bragg in North Carolina, Fort Hood in Texas and Fort Benning in Georgia.

As on our street, the name “Columbus” has come under scrutiny. Columbus, Ohio, has a petition circulating to change the name of their city.

Here in western Massachusetts, there is an organized effort to change the name of Turners Falls to Great Falls. Turners Falls is named to memorialize William Turner, who, during King Philip’s War of 1675-76, led 150 men and boys at dawn to attack a sleeping encampment of Nipmuc mostly women and children near the falls — resulting in what historians describe as a massacre.

Because naming is important, and because we are in what we hope is a permanent pivot in this country away from systemic oppression, pervasive and relentless racism, and misread, missing, and distorted history, it might be a good time for the city of Northampton to reflect on who we honor by naming streets, roads and bridges after them. And who we have overlooked.

I am certainly not a scholar of local history and I do not pretend to be. So the questions below are truly questions. I have been thinking about our city and wondering about the names we often refer to without much consideration. I am not suggesting particular streets, roads and bridges be renamed. I am wondering about the issues of naming, honoring and overlooking.

We call this area the “Pioneer Valley” and we may want to pause and reflect on that title. Many pioneers stole land and lives as they pushed west from the Atlantic coast. Numerous Native Americans have asked that our region be called “the Valley” rather than “the Pioneer Valley.” This request, which I have heard repeatedly, was made once again by Rhonda Anderson on the steps of City Hall in Springfield during the Women’s March in January of this year. A roar of approval rose from the gathered crowd.

In Northampton, I have no idea who Madison Avenue, Taylor Street, Tyler Street, and Washington Avenue were named after. But if those streets were named after U.S. presidents then those streets are all named after slaveholding statesmen. George Washington was a major slaveholder before, during, and after his presidency. James Madison kept several dozen enslaved workers; John Tyler was an enslaver during his time in office; and Zachary Taylor was the last chief executive to keep enslaved people while living in the White House.

One might also pause and consider Ahwaga Avenue, Massasoit Avenue, and Nonotuck Street. Ahwaga is derived from an Iroquois word that means “where the valley widens.” Massasoit was a Wampanoag leader, and Nonotuck is an Algonkian term that means “the midpoint of the river.”

My question is: do settlers, colonizers have the right to name streets using the words and language of those they have conquered? Do we honor Indigenous people by naming streets Ahwaga, Massasoit, and Nonotuck or is this cultural appropriation? These, I believe, are questions worthy of discussion.

The Calvin Coolidge Bridge is an interesting topic of inquiry. Calvin Coolidge, our former city mayor and later the 30th president of the United States, delivered his “First Annual Message” to the nation on Dec. 6, 1923 — the first such address to be broadcast via radio. In that address, President Coolidge stated his intention to tighten up immigration laws, and this policy became one of the hallmarks of Coolidge’s tenure in the White House.

In that 1923 message to the nation, Coolidge stated, “American institutions rest solely on good citizenship. They were created by people who had a background of self-government. New arrivals should be limited to our capacity to absorb them into the ranks of good citizenship. America must be kept American.”

Coolidge’s words make one wonder what he thought “American” meant. Who exactly did Coolidge think was American? And where were those Americans from?

Naming confers recognition on those who are being lifted up, and so all those people listed above were honored by our city by having streets and landmarks named after them. But I am also wondering about the prominent Northampton and Florence residents after whom we have not named a street, a bridge, or a landmark. Sojourner Truth now has a statue in Florence; maybe there could also be a Sojourner Truth Boulevard somewhere in Florence or Northampton. That would be fitting.

Maybe we also need a street named after David Ruggles, a prominent abolitionist, writer, publisher, and voice for Black freedom. Streets could also be named after Dolly Stetson, Lydia Maria Child and Sarah Askin — all women of stature who lived in Florence and were active in the abolitionist movement.

Landmarks could also be named after Henry Anthony, the first African American resident of Florence, Basil Dorsey, a formerly enslaved freedom seeker who settled in Florence, and Charles C. Burleigh, a prominent abolitionist and journalist.

This past year on Columbus Day, I went out alone with my sign and stepladder and changed the name of Columbus Avenue once again. Later that day, my email was full of messages from neighbors who said things like: glad you’re still at it; took a picture and sent it to my kids in Chicago; we remember when your boy was little and joined you in this effort.

Even in my dotage, I will probably keep dragging my stepladder to the end of the street on Columbus Day and change the name of this one block for one day. It is a rather unimportant witness, but it keeps me — literally — on my toes.