The past has always been an example to look towards in order to figure out what works and what doesn’t in society, and what should never be done again. Perhaps the foremost example of the latter is America’s sullied relationship with slavery. America’s long, bloody, and convoluted history with slavery leaves many with an understandably bad taste in their mouths. This has driven many to try and expunge from the national identity any and all historical figures who played a role in spreading the immoral practice. This effort has now come to the University of Cincinnati.
On Dec. 10, a campus-wide email was sent out from school President Neville Pinto announcing a “Special Commission to Study McMicken.” The man under the microscope is Charles McMicken, founding benefactor of the university. The email stated the administration was “establishing a special university-wide commission to examine the life and legacy of Charles McMicken and the use of his name at the University of Cincinnati.” McMicken, whom the Arts and Sciences College is named after, donated roughly $1 million in real estate to the city of Cincinnati to launch its own public university in 1858. The institution was, in his own words, to educate “white boys and girls.” That, coupled with his ownership of slaves, is the source of the recent criticism — which may culminate in the removal of the McMicken name from any mention at the University of Cincinnati.
If this is done, which, if recent trends are any indication, is likely, then the administration has their work cut out for them.
Not only is the school’s McMicken College of Arts and Sciences named after him, but so is a donor recognition society and the commons in the center of campus. It’s even mentioned in the university’s alma mater: “None nobler teachings did instill, than old McMicken on the hill.” Purging the university of the McMicken name is no small feat. Even if it is accomplished, the name will still live on a block away from the campus in one of the most trafficked streets in the area.
The usual suspects — campus progressives — are behind the effort to scrub McMicken from history. The campus administration seems ready and able to bend to their will. Perhaps it is time to strike McMicken’s name from the university legacy, bringing retribution to his long-dead slaves.
Surely, if the administration is so committed to righting historical wrongs, then they would be just as adamant about removing Marge Schott’s name from campus as well. The former Cincinnati Reds owner was an abhorrent racist who went so far as to endorse the practices of none other than Adolf Hitler. Since her death in 2004, her foundation has donated millions of dollars to the University of Cincinnati.
I am not so inclined to believe this effort by the administration is being done in good faith, for it is their pocketbook that matters most.
History is a messy and sometimes unforgiving phenomenon. McMicken clearly did not believe black individuals to be equal, but he was by no means on par with that of Confederate President Jefferson Davis. McMicken gave land to freedmen and donated to black resettlement in Libya — a complicated proposition in itself. The nation as a whole is confronted with the question of what to do about our past, and very rarely are the historical figures subjected to the reassessment clear-cut. The University of Cincinnati is not faced with association with the likes of South Carolina politician James Henry Hammond, and thus the issue shouldn’t be approached like that of the Confederate generals in recent years.
Whatever the outcome, the campus progressives at my alma mater have a legitimate gripe in that McMicken was a slaveholder, which surely any reasonable individual sees as wrong. But perhaps a better option is to keep the name entirely. After all, if McMicken was the hateful racist they believe him to be, wouldn’t forcing his name to be eternally associated with a school that prides itself on its commitment to diversity be a fitting reprisal? I think so, but I won’t hold my breath waiting for an institution of higher education to do anything but cater to the loudest voices in the room.
Brad Johnson is an author in Cincinnati, Ohio.