How DEI helped Davidson College choose the name of its new athletic field | Opinion
Davidson College planned to name the field in our new athletic complex in honor of a well-regarded former football coach. It was as much a no-brainer as naming the basketball court for a North Carolina Sports Hall of Famer, coach Bob McKillop.
The man who was to be honored by naming the field after him had contributed more to the football program over the past half century than anyone. And he was just a good dude.
A small group of students had a unique concern, though. They took it to officials, including Athletics Director Chris Clunie. Had the concern been broadcast earlier, it likely would have led to national headlines about how diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) efforts were again ruining a good thing. A thousand screeds would have been written about the need to abolish DEI.
Those trying to solve the dilemma asked my opinion. I told them that the man should be honored, that he had spent a lifetime earning the accolade. If he was denied the honor, I would be among the curmudgeons and Davidson alumni screaming foul. He was among the primary reasons I chose Davidson. He drove to South Carolina to pick me for an official campus visit. My parents couldn’t afford the trip. He was just as thoughtful — and tough — as head football coach.
My deep appreciation for him is shared by many. After hearing the students’ concerns, I thought things could go wrong, potentially dishonoring an honorable man and turning Davidson into a laughingstock. Fortunately, in addition to Clunie, Melissa Gonzalez, Davidson’s interim chief equity and inclusion officer and associate professor of Hispanic Studies, and that thoughtful group of students came up with a great solution. Had Clunie immediately rejected the students’ concerns, that creativity would have been snuffed in the crib.
Notice I have not yet named the man. His name was at the heart of the angst, not anything he had done.
His name is David Fagg, one letter different than a well-known slur against gay people. The field was to be named “Fagg Field.” The group of students were right to be concerned it could unintentionally make the life of LGBTQ+ students on campus unnecessarily difficult. Coach understood. During football training camp, coach made us laugh several times by referencing his last name. He did it in non-derogatory ways, understanding the sensitivity at play. The students were concerned others wouldn’t be as kind as he was.
“It’s one of those things where… that is his legal name but also you can’t ignore the implications that that word has and it also opens up a door for people to abuse that word,” Queers and Allies co-president Lucy Shuker told the student newspaper, The Davidsonian. Shuker was one of the thoughtful students who led the efforts.
None of that stood in the way of a rightful honor because Clunie, Gonzalez, Shuker and others took each of the letters in DEI seriously. It wasn’t easy. I spoke to a student who recounted days of hurt feelings and misunderstandings. But DEI doesn’t mean prioritizing the humanity of some over the humanity of others. It means not giving into discomfort — or what might seem like triviality to those not directly affected — when things get difficult. It means knowing often the best way to value individual humanity equally is to embrace and account for differences rather than ignoring them.
That’s how “Field 76: In Honor of Coach David J. Fagg” became the centerpiece of a stadium the envy of every school Davidson’s size. Coach wore the No. 76 when he played. His number was also retired.
Because of a group of committed-imaginative people, Davidson gave a beloved man his due without causing harm to a vulnerable group only now being allowed to live their lives fully and openly.
DEI is a tool, not an ideology. In this case, it was used well. It’s been used well more times than you’ve been led to believe.
Issac Bailey is a McClatchy Opinion writer in North and South Carolina. He teaches at Davidson College.
