Bard Hall

At 50 Haven Avenue, a shadow hangs over Bard Hall. This imposing structure, once a symbol of medical promise at Columbia University, carries a conflicted legacy. Bard Hall, a dormitory for medical students, bears the name of Samuel Bard. He was a founding figure of Columbia’s medical school and a renowned obstetrician. Yet, this very man, who brought life into the world, held other lives in chains. Bard Hall stands as a stark reminder of this contradiction. In 1790, the census revealed Bard’s ownership of three enslaved individuals. An advertisement from 1776 in the New York Gazette offered a $10 reward for the return of James, a man enslaved by Bard who had escaped. Today, Bard Hall houses clinical students at Columbia’s Irving Medical Center. The irony is not lost on the current residents. They dedicate their lives to egalitarian healthcare, a principle diametrically opposed to the brutal reality of slavery. In 2020, the New York Times captured Bard Hall in a photograph, forever documenting its place in this complex narrative. The building’s name, etched against the sky, became a symbol of a necessary reckoning. Recently, Columbia University, spurred by student activism and national conversations about racial justice, chose to confront this difficult history. The university president announced the renaming of Bard Hall. This decision acknowledges the painful legacy of slavery while still recognizing Bard’s contributions to medicine. What new name will grace this building? What stories will it tell future generations of medical students? As we stand before Bard Hall, we are reminded that history is not simply etched in stone. It is a living, breathing entity, constantly being reevaluated and rewritten.