I was in the midst of a conversation with someone the other day when they asked me what one of my family member’s real name was. I had to stop and think about it, posing this question in return: “You mean the name on their birth certificate?”
It is hard to explain that this person has had many names that we consider a “real name.” There was the internal family nickname; the version used during the late-mid teens; one that was tested out briefly and rejected just as quickly; and the name that appeared on the school-records. The designation used now by the individual in question is the one that they picked out themselves to use as they reached adulthood. While it may also be considered an initial or a symbol, it is who they are now and therefore it is considered and used as a “real name.” (Okay, the government may not agree, but until legal papers are filed, it’s real.)
The conversation made me realize that most of the men in family don’t use their real names. Long before the use of handles for e-mails, tweets, or blogs, the male members of family (on both sides) have been using monikers that they had chosen themselves--either nicknames given them or adaptations of their given surnames or family names--gradually claiming them as their own. It does come in handy. My father can pinpoint how people know him, either from what stage of his life, or if it is personally or professionally, by which version of his name they use; this doesn't even count the titles or honorifics. Usually most family and friends have adjusted to the name changes over the years, but it can lead to comedic situations when more than one family member is using the same name. It’s gotten to the point in conversations when we have to use “your X” and “my X” when referencing husbands/sons/fathers/brothers.
To a certain extent, my mother and I deal with the name thing as well. I will NOT abide the use of a certain nickname, aside from some very select great aunts who can call me just about anything they want to. (I've already talked about my fake name ad nauseum on the blog, so I won't here.) My mother has different issues with her name(s). One version is as generic as John Doe. However, use of her first and middle name, along with a Southern twang, will immediately illicit a negative and defensive reaction. I asked her about it one time and she basically said: “It takes me back to that girl that I was, and I am not that person anymore.”
It isn't uncommon in Native or other cultures for a person to have many names throughout a lifetime. In some cultures it also isn’t uncommon to let the children choose their own names when they are older. In other religions and cultures, new names are given during adulthood or other sacred ceremonies. It is also well established in fairy tales and other ancient lore, that names have power. In the Harry Potter series, J.K. Rowling illustrates this when she writes about you know who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Many ancient stories have many other situations where people are much cautioned about the exchange of names. Given the evils of identity theft and the misuse of bestowing of cable channel/brand name appellations upon innocent babes, these warnings are still valid.
How about instead of names, we fall back on knowing each other by our works and deeds? The Good Book does say, “Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.”
Maybe this would be easier than having to deal with nicknames, mispronunciations, fake fake names, and identity theft?
Just a thought.
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