This Housing Day, Dename Winthrop House

When I learned last Housing Day that I was placed into Winthrop House, I was devastated.

I had known about the movement to dename Winthrop since shortly after I arrived on campus. The house is named in honor of two John Winthrops — one the first governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, and the other a professor and acting president of Harvard. Both enslaved people.

This Housing Day offers another reminder that it is time for Harvard to dename Winthrop.

Many have put forth compelling arguments in favor of ridding Winthrop of its connection to these enslavers. Some, however, express concerns that practices like denaming play a role in obscuring Harvard’s legacy of slavery. Take, for example, the case of Harvard Law School’s seal. Originally, it bore the crest of the slave-owning Royall family who donated to establish Harvard’s first law professorship. The seal was updated following the recommendation of a 2016 committee.

Though the committee ultimately endorsed the adoption of a new seal, two members argued in favor of preserving the original, saying that it would “be the most honest and forthright way to insure that the true story of our origins, and connection to the people whom we should see as our progenitors (the enslaved people at Royall’s plantations, not Isaac Royall), is not lost.”

This argument shouldn’t be understated — denaming everything with a problematic lineage, without taking any other action, is tantamount to erasing history rather than reconciling with it.

But despite these metaphysical debates, there are three pragmatic reasons that denaming Winthrop House is different. First, Winthrop House has only been around since 1931. The constituents halls were not built, let alone named, during the lives of either of the Winthrops, who did not construct, fund, or title the house. In fact, apart from its name, the house has no apparent affiliation with the Winthrops. It would have been equally justified to have named the house after any other Harvard affiliates.

Given Harvard’s nearly 400-year history, the University would be merited in denaming a house with such a (relatively) new name. Choosing Winthrop was a values statement made by Harvard during the 1930s, not an appellation derived from time immemorial.

Second, the University can reckon with the Winthrops’ legacy without tying their name to an undergraduate house. While the University undeniably needs to face its past, the appropriate place to memorialize such a tragic background is not in the name of a dorm.

Third, having a house named after such controversial figures is detrimental to house pride. Of course, there are far more important reasons for denaming Winthrop. Nonetheless, one cannot expect students to have the same pride in a house that bears the name of such a gruesome legacy as a house named for a more laudable figure.

In the weeks leading up to Housing Day, most first-years pray for the houses with the best amenities or the closest proximity to the yard. But last year, my only wish was that I wouldn’t get Winthrop. I even told friends that I would rather be “quadded” than “Winthropped” — a truly dire wager if there ever was one. I resented the idea of having to state the name of two enslavers every time I gave my Harvard intro or whenever someone asked for my house.

As soon as Winthropians stormed my dormed, I started praying the house would be renamed before I graduated, maybe to DuBois House, Winthrop (Perkins Boynton) House, or even Adams House II.

One year later, I am infinitely glad that I got “Winthropped.” I have met new friends here, and I have a deep admiration for all of the house staff — including our wonderful Harvard University Dining Services workers, custodians, security guards, tutors, and deans.

In short, I love Winthrop House — I just hate the name.

Matthew R. Tobin ’27, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a double concentrator in Government and Economics in Winthrop House.