Wednesday this week was “Name Yourself Day.” That reminded me of naming conventions among various Native American cultures. With all the research I’ve done with the “Curse of Dead Horse Canyon” trilogy, I’ve become familiar with numerous unusual names and often wondered at their origin, for example Starving Elk, Sleeping Rabbit, and White Frog, to name a few.
Co-author, Pete Risingsun, chose that name to honor one of his ancestors. He also has another name. To quote from his biography, “Pete wears his grandfather’s Cheyenne name, Mo’ȯhtáveaénohe (Black Hawk), who was a member of the Council of Forty-Four Chiefs.”
It’s my understanding when a tribal member does something worthy of recognition or has an experience that sets them apart that they often change their name. The greatly revered Cheyenne chief, Morningstar, is also known as Dull Knife, a derogatory moniker supposedly given by his brother because he wanted peace instead of war. Not that Western culture doesn’t do much the same with nicknames.
It makes sense that children were often not named until they were old enough to inspire one that fit. I’ve had a similar experience with my children, but much earlier. At least two of my six children got different names than the one planned. The moment I held them and looked into their eyes I could tell it simply didn’t fit.
While doing genealogy research it was common to find similar names running in families. Some of my children and grandchildren have middle names of family members. My mother and her three sisters all had middle names that were surnames of close family friends.
Naming characters in my novels is always fun. It usually just comes to me, once I get a grip on their persona. Most likely they’re telling me who they are. As I’ve noted before, my characters drive the story and I just record what they do, never knowing what they’ll do next. When they get themselves in a fix, I have no idea how they’ll escape, but they always figure it out.
With your name a major part of your identity, it’s no wonder they receive so much attention. I know at least one person who changed the spelling of his name so it had a more favorable number in numerology.
“You name it, you claim it” often relates to adopting a pet while “Nomen est Omen” implies your name relates to your destiny. This principle applies in astrology where a planet, asteroid, or star emits an energy related to the archetype for which its named.
However, there’s at least one instance where a planet was possibly misnamed. According to astrologer, Richard Tarnas, in his book “Prometheus the Awakener,” the planet Uranus should have been named for the renegade trickster god who gave us fire, whose archetype is closer to the influence that planet exudes, which includes surprises, upsets, rebellion, innovation, and explosions.
Do you like your name? Apparently, lots of people don’t. 85,000 people changed their name by deed poll in 2015. According to AI the reasons include:
Marriage/Divorce: Taking/ditching a spouse’s last name is a common reason.
Anglicizing: Some people change their names to make them easier to pronounce or more familiar in English-speaking countries.
Personal preference: People may choose a name for its sound or meaning, or to establish a unique identity.
Fresh start: Some individuals change their name to escape a difficult past or create a new identity.
Legal reasons: Changes may be required for legal or administrative reasons.
Religious reasons: Religious beliefs can also be a factor in name changes.
When I was younger I never liked my name because it was constantly mispronounced. As a kid, that was horrifically embarrassing, especially since it was coupled with an eleven-letter French-German surname. On the first day of school I’d slouch down in my seat wishing myself invisible as the teacher came to it and just stood there with a puzzled look on their face. I’d raise my hand, mutter, “Here,” and be glad that was over, at least until the next year. No doubt it influenced my marriage to someone named Fox.
While I never liked my name, after carrying it for over seven decades I’ve somehow grown into it. It’s too ingrained to abandon. If I still had that cumbersome maiden name, it would be another story. I no longer cringe when it’s mispronounced. It’s unique, which somehow fits. I’ve done too many unconventional things in my life to be Barbara, Nancy, or Linda. Even the more conventional spelling, Marsha, doesn’t feel right.
It’s been noted that its empowering to change your name. I get that. Years ago, I may have done it myself.
What about you? What name would you give yourself?
The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon 