On Calling by Name

My, it's been a while since I posted any thoughts.  Other things have gained priority.

Over the decades, Americans have taken to calling others by their first names, even people in positions of authority.  The common perception of this phenomena is that we’ve grown more casual with our manner of address.  While this is certainly true, I suspect the shift also indicates something more about our perspective of people and society. 

Surnames identify families, so calling a person by a surname associates that individual with his or her family group and may even imply that the person’s value (or lack thereof) lies in his or her family.  Similarly, the respectful titles Miss, Mrs, Mr, and Dr have their uses expressing formal distance, as well as marital or educational status, but the titles are otherwise even more generic than surnames.

America, being largely a meritocracy, places more value and emphasis on the individual.  Though we still value the family, we are personally less defined by our familial connections (whatever those might be like), and more defined by our characters and our work, which all get wrapped up in our sense of self, and that sense of self generally includes our given names or nicknames.  Thus, the phenomena of calling individuals by their given names seems only natural.  As my mom has said, "I feel I am closer to someone when we call each other by our first names.  It all seems more honest, plain, and genuine."

It's well known, I believe, that language changes to reflect culture, and cultural perspectives are affected by language.  Now, one could find pros and cons in both familial and personal forms of address—and in a culture that values collective or individual contributions and identities—but rather than explore the topic further, I submit this as food for thought.  What do you value, and how do your words unconsciously express that?  What should you value, and how might changing your words reflect and encourage that perspective? 

On What's in a Name

What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet.

                          —Romeo and Juliet II, ii, 1-2

I wonder—how much does our name affect who we are?  A name carries strong connotations of the person it represents; our identity gets wrapped up in it—whether we identify our inner Selves more with our personal name, our nickname, our family name, or with our title, job, or label.  I wrote a bit about this perception of names in general back in May 2012.  Now I question, as others have done before me, the influence of names on who we become as a person.

Words have power.  We know that praise puffs up and name-calling demoralizes—and that people can start to internalize those labels and view them as part of their self-identities.  Does a common name make a person more likely to grow up to be common, or does a common name motivate people to strive harder and distinguish themselves from the many others who share their name?  Is a person with a unique name more likely to emphasize their uniqueness in adulthood, or does it become a handicap of sorts, making it hard to fit in or figure out who they are or want to be as an individual or in the context of society?  Does a name meaning “brave” make the bearer more likely to be brave, to live up to that name?  Does a name meaning “beloved” make the bearer feel more emotionally secure?

When asked “Who are you?  What kind of person are you?” my first response is often, “Um, I don’t know.  I’m just me.”  After thinking about it, I can list qualities—what I strive to be and how I perceive myself to be in reality, and I could identify myself as a Christian, tutor, pianist, crocheter, wife, aunt... but a short list wouldn’t quite capture who I was and have become, and a longer list would be complicated, full of exceptions and examples and self-corrections.  The most concise way to sum myself up is just to say, “I am Leanna Marie Coon.”  Get to know me, and you’ll see a piece of who I am, and that name will start to take on some of the sense, shape, and form of my reality.

On Names

      What girl doesn't contemplate the name of her future children?  Or what author doesn't contemplate fitting names for her characters?  For years, I have kept lists of my favorite names, which go on for pages upon pages.  Sometimes I have shared these names and found that not everyone has agreed with my choices or with my perception of them.  This has led me to reflect on the perception of names.
      We may not know the origin of our attraction or repulsion, but we can point to certain elements that evoke those feelings.  Part of our attraction to a name may come from its written shape; for some reason, I love the look of names spelled with "ae" and "ea" like "Meara," "Mikaela," and "Aethelflaed."  Other names roll off the tongue in a way that sounds strong, fluid, rough, or petite to us--or else-wise dependent upon our personalities and connotations associated with the sounds.  For instance, somehow the sound of "mund" falls dully on my ear, so I turn my nose up at the names "Rosamund" and "Edmund" although I  like "Rosalind" and "Edward" just fine.  Our personalities may also determine whether we prefer common "tried and true" names, such as Mary or John in English-speaking countries, or a more "avant garde," "unique," or ethnic name, such as Akela or Shaan Wu, and whether we prefer longer or shorter names.
      Yet, beyond the basic sound, rhythm, and shape of a name, we invariably associate them with people we've known to have them.  Thus, we can never favor certain names because we associate them with unpleasant people, such as "Ursula," which makes me think of the sea witch in The Little Mermaid and the half-crazy old lady in Ivanhoe.  Conversely, certain names attract us because we associate them with pleasant people.  I would likely think little of the name "Blanche," for instance, except that my very first Sunday School teacher went by that name, and it makes me remember her caring, grandmotherly ways.  Our experience with names may also inform our perception of "girl" and "boy" names; Taylor and Ashley may sound like unisex names or solely feminine or solely masculine depending on our culture and experience with their use.
      Furthermore, I theorize that we are attracted to names with sounds similar to our own (assuming we like our name).  As a "Leanna," I have noticed I'm unconsciously attracted to "Lee" and "Anna" and other names incorporating those sounds, such as "Aliana" and "Li."  I have not asked around to see whether other people are similarly influenced, but I suspect the attraction is not uncommon.

      Below, I've presented a short-list of my (current) favorite names--a subjective list influenced by both the sound, appearance, and my own connotations.  You might consider your own connotations as you read them: 

Favorite Boy Names

Alphonse, Ananias, Eric, Daniel, Hayate, James, Johann, Kael, Kirian, Leland, Liam, Josiah, Marek, Matthias, Mikhail, Micah, Nakatsu, Nikolai, Theodore, Wesley             

Favorite Girl Names

Akane, Anara/Inara, Athalia, Ariana, Grace, Izumi, Kaylie/Kaelee, Kaya, Kansa, Kitty, Meridyn, Mikaela, Miri, Miriam, Naomi, Sierra, Serenity, Winter