The President's Lake Ontario Rename: A Joke, But More Than That

The Absurdity and the Depth

When President Joe Biden announced his intention to rename Lake Ontario, it sparked a wave of reactions across the nation—some amused, others appalled. The idea of renaming one of North America's Great Lakes seems like a joke at first glance, but as I reflect on this moment, I see something deeper: an opportunity to consider how we remember, honor, and reinterpret history in our public life.

"The lake is named for the Ongiara, or Onondaga, people—Indigenous allies of the French. The renaming could be a symbolic step toward recognizing Indigenous sovereignty."

It's not a new idea to rename places for their historical or cultural significance. Yet when the president proposes to rename Lake Ontario, it raises questions about who gets to decide what our landmarks mean—and how we define public memory in a rapidly changing world.

A Name That Carries Weight

When I first heard about the proposed name change, I was struck not by its absurdity but by its potential. The lake's current name, Ontario, comes from the Indigenous word for "great lake," but it's a name that reflects European colonization rather than the original voices of those who lived there. So, when a president suggests renaming it something else—something that acknowledges Indigenous heritage and rewrites the narrative—it becomes less about the joke and more about a deeper reckoning.

I've seen this kind of public renaming before. In 2020, the city of Detroit changed its name to “Detmold” in jest, only to have it quickly reverted—a moment that felt like a small satire on national identity. But this time, it's different. This is about redefining public space, not just for fun.

The Power of Place

We often think of place names as simple markers. But in truth, they're repositories of memory and meaning. The name “Lake Ontario” carries the weight of centuries, of European exploration and colonialism, but also of Indigenous sovereignty and culture. Renaming it could be a symbolic step toward recognizing that history—and healing the wounds of erasure that have long defined how we speak about our landmarks.

There's something poignant about a president using a national platform to reframe how we understand geography. It's not just a political stunt; it's a cultural one, even if many don't see it that way yet. I've written about the significance of how public figures shape our memory in previous pieces—like when we remember people like Harriet Tubman or Martin Luther King Jr. through monuments and place names.

Public Memory and National Narrative

The editorial board at the Buffalo News, which first reported this move, framed it as absurd—but that's only part of the story. They missed what's really happening here: a reclamation of narrative authority by those who have long been silenced or ignored. If the president is trying to signal something deeper about how the U.S. engages with Indigenous history and culture, then his words are not jokes but calls to action.

And yet, the backlash that follows such a move—often fierce and swift—is telling too. It reveals the resistance many still feel toward acknowledging past injustices or reimagining national identity in inclusive ways. That tension, I believe, is where public discourse must live: in conflict and resolution, in humor and solemnity.

How Names Shape Identity

Names matter. They shape how we see ourselves and each other. This isn't about just renaming a lake—it's about reshaping national consciousness. When we name something after a person or idea, we're saying, “This matters.” And sometimes, that's more than a gesture; it's an act of healing.

As I've observed in my reporting on memorialization and public memory, renaming is one of the most powerful tools available to societies. It allows us to redefine who we are, and who we want to become. It's not about nostalgia—it's about legacy.

The Broader Implications

What's happening with Lake Ontario isn't just symbolic. It reflects larger shifts in how public discourse engages with issues of race, history, and identity. Whether or not the renaming actually happens, it has already sparked a national conversation that matters. This is where our public memory begins to evolve—and where we begin to imagine new futures.

For now, I remain hopeful. A president who chooses to use a symbolic renaming of Lake Ontario isn't just being absurd; he's attempting to create a moment of reflection and reevaluation. And that's worth something—especially in a country still learning how to confront its own past.