A park by any other name

A tree grows in Dorchester.

Actually, seven trees in this particular spot on Columbia Road: one hawthorn , two honey locusts, and four red maples.

All of them sit wistfully on a frumpy and faceless triangle of city land hard by the Southeast Expressway off-ramp.

They are joined there by a regal rose of Sharon bush, which residents planted several weeks ago, along with the trees, in honor of the late neighborhood activist Sharon Yokaitis .

Neighbors want to dress up the tiny swath with accessories like a dog run and a stone bearing a memorial plaque that would officially proclaim the space ``Sharon's Park."

To do that, they must first win the approval of the city's Parks and Recreation Commission, a process that could get ticklish.

Though it's only about half an acre in size, the proposed park, bordered by Columbia Road and Mt. Vernon and Buttonwood streets, offers a peek into the obscure system by which the city confers sobriquets upon its open spaces and places.

The modern naming game can be dicey, after all. Last week, a bitter struggle between past and present became public when the Globe reported opposition to attaching the family name of former Red Sox owner Tom Yawkey to a refurbished youth clubhouse in Roxbury. Critics said that the millions contributed to the facility by a Yawkey foundation should not blot out the Red Sox' historical legacy of racism.

Unlike the naming rights at the Roxbury center, or at Fenway Park and other private venues, the appellations applied to city parks and playgrounds, ball fields and field houses, rely on deep community support, not deep pockets. They are not for sale, the city says.

However, just as the woman herself did in life, a Yokaitis memorial may test the patience of the city's establishment, and its Parks and Recreation Commission, a mayorally appointed body that almost always accedes to the wishes of the neighborhood.

For whether it was helping to throw up a picket line, quoting from legal precedents, or making persistent phone calls, allies say, the rose of Sharon's Dorchester namesake, Yokaitis, was no shrinking violet when it came to calling out City Hall to protect her neighborhood's stock of affordable housing or peaceful streets.

A city official says that in this case, as in others, it is unlikely the commission would buck the neighborhood's proposed name. Still, there is no concrete criteria to prevent that from happening beyond the commission's vetting process, which tests the proposed honoree's credibility and civic connection to the neighborhood.

Now, residents say, they'd be pained if the city engaged in petty posthumous payback by denying the forlorn parcel the proper name Sharon's Park.

``She was a community person and did what she believed," says fellow Dorchester firebrand Joe Chaisson . ``That doesn't make her the enemy.

``The old story is `you can't fight City Hall,' " said Chaisson. ``But we continue to try."

After a wave of city parklands named for veterans of World War I (George H. Walker Playground, Norfolk Street, Mattapan), World War II (William G. Walsh Playground, Gallivan Boulevard, Dorchester), and Vietnam (Kevin Barry Hardiman Playground, Oak Square, Brighton), there's currently a flurry of markers offered for civic soldiers.

Of the 10 city parks named since 2003, one-third were for neighborhood partisans: Rose Mehegan , Worcester Square, South End; John Beresford , Ronan Park memorial, Dorchester; George Wall, children's playground, Dorchester Park, Dorchester. Most of the rest were for sports-related figures, including retired Red Sox pitcher Luis Tiant on the Little League field at Peters Park in the South End, and the late Globe sportswriter Will McDonough on the field house at Moakley Park in South Boston.

As the Wall designation suggests, not all selections go to the most blustery voice in the crowd. It's proposed that a plaque to go up in Dorchester Park would honor him thusly: ``A friend to Dorchester Park, the Carney Hospital, St. Gregory's Parish, and the greater Dorchester community. George was always ready to lend a helping hand financially by paying for books to be given to the children to take home after story hour in the park, prizes for games played at family fun day, and refreshments for volunteers after the clean up. George has always enjoyed the splendor of the trees in the park while sitting on a bench, and reading the newspaper. May George be a model of caring citizenry for all future generations to come."

When it came to safeguarding her own streets, sandwiched between Columbia Road and South Boston, Yokaitis could be as subtle as a poke to the city fathers' ribs, according to friends who knew the woman, who died in 2002, at age 47, following serious surgery.

``Let's do it before someone gets killed," she'd prod the powers that be in city and state government about smoothing out the utter chaos -- since curtailed with better traffic control -- that used to meet motorists and pedestrians converging by the Expressway at Columbia Road. Yokaitis was trying to prevent crashes near the very plot of land where her friends now want to besprinkle her name.

``She was the eyes and ears in the city," says Millie Rooney , a leader of the John W. McCormack Civic Association that Yokaitis helped launch. ``Whether she butted heads with City Hall or the state, it was to better the neighborhood."

If the neighborhood wants to commemorate Yokaitis with that land, chances are good that it will happen, says Brian McLaughlin , executive secretary of the Boston Parks and Recreation Commission, whose members represent interests ranging from athletics to green space.

During his 10 years at the post, McLaughlin says, the commission has rejected only one name submitted for a city park. While the nominated man did business in the South End, McLaughlin says the commission felt he was not otherwise involved enough in the community.

McLaughlin says, the commission wouldn't punish Yokaitis for being too active in her neighborhood.

``If the community wants it, I think it's something the commissioners would look favorably upon," he says. ``They'd honor her dedication, her service, rather than any particular fight."

Dorchester residents say they soon will start a naming process for Yokaitis. Generally, this includes gathering signatures from more than 50 percent of those who live within five or 10 blocks of a park, depending on its size, or roughly 100 to 200 signatures from the neighborhood, and convening a community meeting to discuss the proposal.

But no matter what the commission does, residents say they already have a way to fasten their friend's name to their erstwhile mini village green.

``Regardless of what is said," offers neighbor John Lowe , as if channeling Yokaitis, ``we're still referring to it as that in the neighborhood."

That would be, simply, ``Sharon's Park."

Ric Kahn can be reached at rkahn@globe.com.