Naming names
The first argument I ever had with my wife—back when we had known each other for about a year—concerned the naming of babies. Long before any woman had even hinted at a willingness to bear my children, I had developed a philosophy of naming. It cast a wide net of possibilities and promised a rich and exotic variety of monikers for however many kids a couple might choose to have. My actual future wife thought my ideas were pretentious and exclusionary since they left my hypothetical future wife little say in the matter. Her ideas about names basically consisted of "Laura."
We sort of agree now on the process of choosing names, though we haven't yet agreed on any specific names. These are the things we're considering when looking at names:
- Family Connection: I love the fact that my first name came from my uncle, my middle name came from my great grandfather, and my initials match my grandfather's exactly. I feel like it gives me a connection to the family. The problem is that both of our families consist mainly of old people with strange names. However much I loved my grandfather Pinkney, I'm not naming a son after him.
- Historical Context: I'd love to give my child an emotional connection to a great historical figure by virtue of a name. Would that put too much pressure on a kid? I think JFK may have gotten his middle initial from F. Scott Fitzgerald, who certainly made a mark on the world of literature after growing up with the name of the man who wrote The Star Spangled Banner (for international readers, that's the U.S. national anthem, written by Francis Scott Key). George Washington Carver also did well with his larger-than-life name. But then there's also John Wayne Bobbit, whose name didn't help him a bit.
- Personal Acquaintance: Mrs. Happy has met a few unpleasant Lauras since our first argument. Because of them, she can never give that name to a daughter. I used to like the name Jonathan, with all of its connotations of loyalty and friendship fit for a king, but that was the name of my wife's last boyfriend. Yech.
- Literal Meaning: I won't risk offending anyone with examples, but there are beautiful names with ugly meanings, and beautiful meanings for ugly names. I'd like for both to be beautiful. Just as a side note, I found in a book the Native American name Iuana, which means "blown backwards over the rippling brook." That's just cool.
- Individuality: In high school, I knew at least five Johns and ten Jasons. I want my kids' friends to be able to call their names without having to clarify further.
- Acceptability/Pronounceability: I had a friend in elementary school named Chanif, pronounced HON-iff. No teacher could ever pronounce his name right, so after kindergarten he made a preemptive strike with every new teacher (before roll call) and just told them all to call him Cricket.
- Compatibility: If you pick out a name that falls in line perfectly with every consideration listed above, but then the baby emerges looking for all the world like a Fritzroy, then I guess that's what you name him. One of my brothers-in-law was called Baby Boy for three days before his parents finally decided that he looked like a Bryan.
It's a heady responsibility to name a child. He will live with that name for his entire life. It may play a part in determining his destiny. Then again, it might not. Nicholas Cage did a skit on Saturday Night Live once in which a couple were trying to decide what to name their child. He shot down every idea the woman had because every name she thought of would eventually be wielded against the child in the battle zone of the schoolyard. The punch line came when it was revealed that the couple's last name was ah-ZWEE-pay, spelled "Asswipe."
