Try this hypothetical on for size. A bunch of developers see the opportunity to create a major commercial and residential development in Roxbury. They enlist the city's eager planning department in their scheme. But, they say, we want to change the name of the neighborhood, from Roxbury to, say, the "Pleasant District."

Why?

Well, we all know why, don't we? Roxbury is too monochromatic, it's too lower class, it's too crime-ridden. True or not, the developers argue, that's the perception.

In the event this hypothetical actually occurred, liberal Bostonians would be outraged. But when precisely this situation occurred in another neighborhood of Boston -- South Boston -- liberals were not only silent, they led the charge.

Over the last several years, the Boston Redevelopment Authority has been creating a master plan for major redevelopment of the South Boston waterfront. The BRA called it the "Seaport District". It was touted as Boston's newest neighborhood.

Leave aside for a moment the ugly nomenclature. "District, "zone," "area" -- these are all creepy place names that tell you nothing. They are names given by planners, not by people who live or work in an area. (Although, in truth, a city where the South End is north of South Boston plainly doesn't care about geographic precision.)

The problem was that Boston's newest neighborhood was being built in one of Boston's oldest neighborhoods. The area to be covered by the new development was South Boston.

So why the name change?

Well, we all know why, don't we? South Boston, like Roxbury, is too monochromatic, albeit white instead of black. It's stereotyped as working class, uninformed and insular. It resists change and is hostile to outsiders. Many black Bostonians, seeing South Boston as the epicenter of the city's resistance to racial integration, will not set foot in the neighborhood.

Like most stereotypes, there is much truth to these perceptions. But South Boston itself is more complex that those stereotypes indicate. Where some see insularity, others see cohesion and support. Where some see working class, others see an affordable residential community.

More importantly, the stereotypes are dated. Over the last decade the neighborhood has begun to change, and the pace of change today seems to be accelerating. The visible face of this can be seen in the commercial sections along East and West Broadway, in the morning commuters walking to the subway dressed in suits, in Southie's growing gay, student and yes, even black and Hispanic populations.

Do names matter? Yes they do. Strong residential communities balance continuity and change. The challenge for South Boston is not to become something different than it now is; it's to become something more. Calling a chunk of the neighborhood by an antiseptic new name bifurcates the community, making one half new, one half old. Calling it all South Boston keeps the community whole, allowing it to grow and change while still being a place where people wave to each other when they pass on the street.