Wheatley, Alcott, and Zipporah: Why we should consider renaming some of our stations

A lot of the debate around renaming things in America has centered on what we might call de-naming things named after people we no longer wish to valorize. This is definitely important, particularly in terms of de-naming relics of the Confederacy. 

But there is another side to this: as a society, we are increasingly conscious of the unsung heroes of our history. Renaming gives us the opportunity to elevate the memories of these people, and thereby bring them back into the daily lived experiences of our communities — bake them into the fabric of the city itself. 

Renaming to celebrate people we have forgotten does not need to come at the expense of the heroes we currently laud. There are ample places across the region that have become major centers of community, with names that are now long divorced from our memory of the individuals. These places offer opportunities to widen our circle of memory, and enrich our city with a wider understanding of its own history. 

~~~

I’ll offer three examples: Lechmere, Ruggles, and Maverick. Before I go into their history, I invite you to ask yourself, “Do I know where these names come from?” (And don’t say “the Lechmere Company”, which, like the station, was named for Lechmere Square — but who or what is “Lechmere”?)

Lechmere: Richard Lechmere was a Loyalist slaveowner (likely involved in plantations in the West Indies and the slave trade) who housed British troops in his distillery during the occupation and then left Massachusetts in 1776 for Britain by way of Nova Scotia and never returned. Lechmere Point, so named for sitting on land that he owned, was where the British troops landed on their way to Lexington and Concord

Ruggles: Timothy Ruggles was also a Loyalist who, like Lechmere, absconded from Massachusetts before the Revolutionary War

Maverick: Samuel Maverick was one of the region’s first slaveowners

To be clear, I am not saying that these stations should be renamed simply because their namesakes were Loyalists and/or slaveowners. (Although, it must be said, the stories about Lechmere and Maverick are particularly grotesque.)

What I am saying: there are many people in our history whom we actively wish to celebrate, many of whom doubtless could merit having a square or subway station named after them. If we therefore were to look for places that cold be considered “available” for renaming, I submit that the above three would be strong candidates. Not to say that they weren’t important parts of our history, but to acknowledge that there are other people who we would now consider more important parts of our history, and who are overdue for recognition.

There are other examples of station names which have less-than-illustrious origins which could also be considered “available”: Wollaston is named after a pirate who arrived in Plymouth in 1624, couldn’t get along with the Puritans, so traveled up the coast with 30 indentured servants to what is now Merrymount (i.e. nowhere near the current Wollaston neighborhood) in 1625 before dying the following year; Charles/MGH is named for Charles St which is named for the Charles River which was named… by a then-14-year-old British prince who named it after himself; Suffolk Downs is of course a defunct race track and Wood Island is a defunct amusement park.

Again, I’m not saying that any of those stations should be renamed, but rather that they could be potential options if we identify historical figures we wish to celebrate.

Those stations make an interesting comparison to others, named after figures whose accomplishments are still laudable or positive today, including: Andrew, named after a radical abolitionist; the origin of the name “Jackson Square” is unclear but may have been named after a Revolutionary War general and subsequent elder statesman; and Green Street, which appears to have been simply named for the residents who lived on the street when it was built (one of whom is described as a “gardener and picture frame maker”).

~~~

In terms of historical figures we might consider elevating, there are numerous sources from which we can draw inspiration. As a starting point, we can consider individuals honored on the Boston Women’s Heritage Trail and the Black Heritage Trail; we can also consult any number of histories of minority communities in Boston. These lists are probably overwhelming, and I think that’s a good thing! There is so much for us to remember and celebrate, and it’s well worth our time to sift through these histories as we consider whose memories we want to define our community through.

As initial suggestions — given here more to inspire the imagination and remind us how many people there are we could celebrate — I offer the following:

I suggest Ruggles be renamed to Wheatley, after the first published Black American poet, Phyllis Wheatley. Particularly as this station becomes increasingly important to the overall network (e.g. with additional Urban Ring-like services), and as a key transit gateway to Roxbury and Dorchester, Ruggles offers a very visible and prominent site to honor an early Black Bostonian (who, as I have said in the past, it is vital to remember have been part of Boston since the very beginning). As can be seen in the links above, there are a great many people to choose from, so by no means is “Wheatley” the only option. As I say, I offer this as an initial suggestion, as a way for us to begin to reimagine the kinds of people we name subway stations after. 

I suggest Lechmere be renamed to Alcott, after the abolitionist, suffragist, feminist author Louisa May Alcott. (For those of us looking for some connection between Alcott and the station in question, we can point to the longtime association with Concord, reachable by the Fitchburg Railroad, which had a station nearby at East Cambridge.) Alcott is of course known and beloved for Little Women, which was itself wildly popular and a seminal work representing the everyday lives of middle-class girls, but the author also wrote about working in a Civil War hospital (based on the firsthand experience of having served at one), an early gothic thriller novel, and one of the first pieces of American detective fiction. In addition to flouting social gender norms, Alcott also self-described in terms we would understand today as being LGBTQ.

And I suggest that Maverick could be renamed after one of Boston’s many abolitionists. There are numerous to choose from: William Lloyd Garrison comes to mind, though his steadfast devotion to both abolition and women’s suffrage is complicated by his antisemitism; I am drawn however to the story of David Walker, whose “Appeal to the Colored Citizens of the World” was so revolutionary that it was essentially banned in the South. Renaming Maverick to Walker would be a small but non-trivial repudiation of Massachusetts’ slave-trading past, all the more so because of Samuel Maverick’s unique position as one of the region’s first slaveowners.

As an alternative (and perhaps a less controversial option), we could also rename Maverick to Zipporah, after a contemporary of Samuel Maverick who, just across the harbor from his land, was the first Black person (and a Black woman at that) to own land in the city of Boston — and one of the first Black landowners in what would become the United States. “Wheatley” and “Alcott” are largely household names, but “This is a Blue Line train to Charles/MGH, the next stop is Zipporah” will make people look up and wonder, “Who is that?” and would become a daily reminder that Boston’s Black residents have been here since the beginning.

~~~

As I say, these suggestions are not meant to be final or definitive. These decisions are the kind that should be made after many conversations and consultations. I am not a Black Bostonian, and it’s quite likely that actual Black residents of Boston would have different ideas about whom should be celebrated (to say nothing of our Dominican, Puerto Rican, Haitian, African, Mexican, Central American, Cape Verdean, Chinese, Vietnamese, Eastern European, French Canadian, Muslim, Jewish, LGBTQ and other community members). But I think that conversation begins with an act of imagination, as we seek to expand our idea of who we name our squares, public spaces, and subway stations after. So, here is my act of imagination.