I’m all for commemoration. Great people who have achieved great things against great odds are worthy of our gratitude and respect. What I don’t understand is the necessity to commemorate these people by naming streets after them.
Over the last year, Portland experienced a seething debate over the proposal to rename Interstate Avenue “Cesar Chavez Boulevard”. The debate frequently devolved into a racial argument, as if a failure to support the change was a veiled commentary on the acceptance of Portland’s Latino population. Others accused the city of attempting to put a faux feather in its cap while pushing their plans on less affluent neighborhoods. (The shortest discussion in Portland history would have been a proposal to rename NW 23rd to be Cesar Chavez Blvd. The thought of that happening is downright laughable.) Eventually, the city council voted that 39th Avenue should be renamed for Cesar Chavez. (Local activists have threatened that if the name change was approved, they would propose that the city rename NW 23rd to "Richard Nixon Ave.")
I didn’t support the change to Interstate, or to 39th, but it had nothing to do with Latinos or Cesar Chavez---it had to do with simple logistics. Quite simply, why must we commemorate our heroes with a street name? Portland has done it before, in 1989 when Union Avenue became Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd, and in 2006 when the city, sans discussion, abruptly renamed Portland Blvd. as Rosa Parks Way. Great people who achieved great things---but why impose on every business on a miles-long road to reprint their business cards, stationary, web sites and advertising collateral? Why require a wholesale update of every local yellow pages directory? Why require ODOT to refashion every highway sign that makes reference to the street in question? The ripple effect of changing a street name is full of tremendous costs to every business (and even homes) on that street, along with huge costs to the city. (There are literally hundreds, even thousands of “39th Ave” signs posted at every street corner on that avenue, which stretches north to south across nearly the entire city.)
I live near Columbia Park. This lovely park isn’t close to Columbia Blvd, is even further from the Columbia River, and as far as I can tell was arbitrarily named. If the city wanted to rename it Cesar Chavez Park, that would be splendid. City maps would require updating, but otherwise, the financial impact on citizens would be completely minimal. The park would be every bit as enjoyable, and it could serve as ground zero for any local Chavez celebrations---something that’s harder to do on a street full of cars traveling 35 miles per hour.
Renaming streets seems like the quintessential example of government ridiculousness, incurring huge expense for a highly visible but barely symbolic gesture. Case in point: Every day my bus travels past Rosa Parks Way, where the “Rosa Parks Way” street signs have been fastened just above the “Portland Blvd” street signs, rather than replacing them. This seems like little more than lip service to Ms. Parks, since three years later, dual identity seems to contradict the whole point of the commemoration. And if we aren’t even going to fully commit, why pretend otherwise? Let the letterheads remain unchanged and find a way to wholeheartedly show our respect.
4 comments:
I confess, this isn't a topical post. But my daily exposure to the dual signage on Rosa Portland Way got me to thinking about it.
A street, being merely a concession to a necessary evil, is kind of a lame thing to name after someone. And there are certainly a lot of other, much more pressing issues for people to be focusing attention and money on!
Nashville's got some of those twice-named streets, too. And then it's also got multiple streets with a single name. I feel so bad for emergency services dispatchers. "House fire on McGavock Pike." "Is that the McGavock Pike in Donelson, Inglewood, or downtown?" "Ummm..." Meanwhile, your house is burning down. Amazing how such a simple thing can be made so complicated.
When I worked in the west hills of Portland, there was one street that had three iterations like you describe, Hillside Drive. One was a left off Patton, the other two were rights, and they never came close to connecting. At least once a week, people would stop to ask why the street numbers didn't come close to matching their destination. "Oh you want the OTHER Hillside -- but the first other one, not the second other one." :-)
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