Names have social, cultural, biblical, and personal importance to each person.
Learning
Recently, I have been reflecting on what it means to call someone by name, whether the one given at birth—their legal name—the name they have chosen to use, or the name they have been gifted in a naming ceremony.
In thanking a new staff member for their support with a technology issue, I made a quick glance at their identification, which read “Samran.” I said their name and then asked if I had pronounced their name correctly. They said, “Yes, but you can call me Sam.” A co-worker’s partner whose name is Sunil has neighbours who call him Neil. Often new immigrants choose to anglicize their names to fit in and make it easier for the dominant culture to pronounce their names. Non-anglicized names can also be used against a person as potential employers screen these names out of the hiring process.
Recently, a co-worker shared their experience of being given a traditional name in an Indigenous Naming Ceremony, their joy in receiving that name, and the significance of the name to them at this point in their life. The receiving of an Indigenous name is a profound action and sacred gift. Another way of thinking of names is when Indigenous people have Indigenous names that are written in the English language.
Earlier in the year, an Asian trans teenager shared their story and the intersection of their identity, ethnicity, expectations, and gender to who they were becoming. For them, changing their first name to a name that reflected their gender identity was empowering.
Names and their meanings have social, cultural, biblical, and personal importance to each person. In some societies, naming a child is an honour given to a particular family member. The biblical concept of a name often reflected the character and nature of the person, and sometimes changing a name expressed a spiritual milestone for the individual, the significance of which would guide that person as they strode through the future.
At other times, naming people or changing their name implied a relationship between parties reflecting harm and power. My own family names—both Richards and Walling—likely reflect the fact that people who were enslaved were often given the last names of their enslavers. Slave “owners” often changed the names of the people who were enslaved on a whim, deciding that an enslaved person should be called by another name. As well, many of the people who were enslaved were only known by a first name. If their name appeared in a legal document, as a piece of property bequeathed to someone, they were referred to, for example, as “the deceased Mr. Smith’s slave named Tommy.” The people who were enslaved were constantly sold for profit, because of debt, or simply because someone lost at gambling. They were often separated from siblings, parents, and other family members in the process. This was referred to in the oral African-American tradition as the “wailing time.”
At Emancipation, some people who were newly freed from enslavement chose to distance themselves from their former “owner” by declining to use their former owner’s name, thereby demonstrating their ability to choose their own name. It also signified their “freed” status.
The renaming of Indigenous children in residential institutions was a deliberate move that was designed to erase traditional names, cut ties between the child and their family, and destroy the ability to pass those names on. This erasure of a child’s identity was harmful, and it caused trauma. This cultural assimilation tactic made it challenging for Indigenous peoples to reclaim their names and use those names on legal documents.
Identity is fundamental to our existence. Social identity is about creating a sense of community or belonging. Personal identity comprises our personal experiences, which shape who we are.
Erasing identity and erasing culture are vestiges of colonialism that we should continue to be aware of and dismantle in a more plural society.
Faith Reflection
As I reflect on the importance of names to identity and how names have been used to erase identity, I find hope and promise in the verses of Isaiah 43:1‒5. “I have called you by name; you are mine” reminds us of God’s redeeming love for each of us. Verse 2 states, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you,” and is a testament to God’s guidance and support through hard times, those times when people have been overlooked or made invisible because of their name and their culture, when names have been erased along with the links to a culture. We are reminded in verse 5: “Do not fear, for I am with you” (NRSVue).
Living It Out
How do we move forward respectfully and intentionally to honour the names that people have been gifted or that they have chosen? How can we take an active role in dismantling the erasure of identity and culture that remains from our racist and colonial history? Consider doing the following:
- Make the effort to pronounce someone’s names correctly. Ask how they would like to be referred to, listen carefully to how they pronounce their name, and be vulnerable enough to repeat it until you get it right.
- Honour a person’s choice of name and their named pronouns.
- The next time you come across a name that is not familiar to you, be curious, and be cautious about personal bias against names that are unfamiliar to you.
—Deborah Richards (she/her) is a lay member of Northwood United Church in Surrey, BC, which is the traditional territory of the Semiahmoo, Katzie, Kwikwetlem, Kwantlen, Qayqayt, and Tsawwassen First Nations. She has supported her community of faith in various roles over the years, including leadership roles in children’s church, Ministry Board Chair (2010–2016), Congregational Representative to Fraser Presbytery and then Pacific Mountain Regional Council (2018–2021), and Trustee (2018 to present). She has an interest in furthering intercultural understanding and has been leading this effort through Pacific Mountain’s Intercultural Ministry Network, and as co-chair of the Western Intercultural Ministry Network (WIMN) (2020 to present). Deborah served on the General Council Executive of General Council 43 (2018–2022) and is currently serving her term as President of Pacific Mountain Regional Council.