Naming Stories
Naming Stories is a participatory project where you can contribute a story about the origin of your name or someone that you have named.
I was invited to contribute a piece to the Where Progress and History Meet exhibition at the West Chicago City Museum. Exhibition curators Sarah Phalen and Anni Holm stipulated that my work be inspired by an object in the museum’s collection. Late one night, I was reviewing the museum’s objects while nursing my new son. I was attracted to an image of a pair of baby shoes that was paired with this description on their website:
Clarence Hayward’s baby shoes
Shoes belonging to Clarence Hayward (1894-1896). Clarence Hayward died as a toddler and the next boy born in the family was also given the name Clarence. The second Clarence Hayward lived from 1901-1979 and is buried in Glen Oak cemetery.
After reading this, I felt deep sadness for Clarence’s parents. I can’t imagine how it feels to experience the death of a child. Then I wondered what it would feel like to live with a child who has the same name as another that died. I was curious about what was it like for Clarence Hayward to be the second child in the family with the same name as his deceased brother. These questions compelled me to create Naming Stories to learn from people how their first names or the names of their loved ones were chosen.
As the mother of an infant and toddler, I had spent many hours debating names for my children. Names in our family often had a story to them. My Uncle Ike’s name seemed perfectly suited to him—he lived in the moment, dined out for almost every meal, loved gambling on the horses, and slathered baby oil and iodine on his deep olive skin when we sunbathed together on the Jersey shore in the 1980s. He was a quintessential Ike to me. We never called him by his given name, Isaac. When the time arrived for my partner and me to name our first child, we read so many lists of names in books and online. I hoped to find a name that would suit her personality. He wanted a name that embodied strength. I also wanted something unique instead of a name shared by many. When I was in primary school, Jennifer and Michael were the most popular names with quite a few students being renamed with an initial to differentiate Jennifer H from Jennifer F or Michael S from Michael T. I liked being the only Jody in my classes and wanted that same experience for my child.
Family lore is it that my parents expected me to be a boy and didn’t pick out a girl’s name. They decided to name me Joseph after my father and they were surprised when their third daughter appeared. They chose a name for me that they considered for my older siblings plus it has some similarities to Joseph: Jody.
On the day of our daughter’s birth, we arrived at the hospital without having settled on name for her. People had shared with us that when we met her we would know what her name was supposed to be. My partner didn’t believe this, but I held out hope that it would be true. In the surreal experience of bringing a new life into the world, clarity of a name didn’t happen. She was a tiny baby born three weeks early who could go from sleepy to screaming in a second. She was beautiful and scary simultaneously (still is). We were overjoyed that both she and I were healthy after some complications (and thought everyone else in our family would be too.) At the hospital she was nameless for her first days and was referred to as “baby girl.” Prompted by needing to complete birth certificate paperwork, we finally named her Zadie. We learned of this name from the British author Zadie Smith, whose work we enjoy. We never imagined that some family members would think that we named her after my father whose name was Joseph. This misunderstanding caused family strife and hurt feelings in our extended family. A Yiddish nickname for grandpa is Zayde and family members thought we named her Zadie to honor my father that had passed away (but was not Jewish.) The turmoil about her name quickly subsided and Zadie truly has become a fitting moniker for our spunky girl.
When faced with naming another human, this time our son, we didn’t decide on a name for him until the week of his birth. For months we had a short list but nothing stuck. Again, I was awake in the middle of the night looking online—this time at baby boy names—and came upon Lars. We immediately agreed to this name (and no one had hurt feelings.) People ask if we named him after Lars Ullrich the drummer from the band Metallica (although my partner is a fan) or if we have Norwegian heritage. No to both—we just liked the name and feel like it suits him well. Lars and Zadie are quite a duo.
After reflecting on my own experiences of naming two children, I am interested in learning about your names. I invite you to contribute the story of your first name or how you chose the name for your offspring. Please share your story.