naming and claiming…yourself

 

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Me in my original Ernie Bufflo days.

 

My name is Sarah. Except it wasn’t always.

I was born Sara. For a while, as a young kid, I insisted my name was Ernie Bufflo, which is why this blog has such a funny name, and why encounters with people who previously only knew me online are always a little awkward, as people are obviously hesitant to ask a total stranger, “Are you Ernie Bufflo?” in case they’re actually wrong and the other person has no idea what they’re talking about. Then, sometime in Sunday School, I became aware that the Sarah in the Bible story actually has an “h,” and I became convinced my parents spelled my name “wrong.” I felt about Sara the way Anne Shirley felt about Ann:

“Oh, I’m not ashamed of it,” explained Anne, “only I like Cordelia better. I’ve always imagined that my name was Cordelia—at least, I always have of late years. When I was young I used to imagine it was Geraldine, but I like Cordelia better now. But if you call me Anne please call me Anne spelled with an E.”

“What difference does it make how it’s spelled?” asked Marilla with another rusty smile as she picked up the teapot.

“Oh, it makes SUCH a difference. It LOOKS so much nicer. When you hear a name pronounced can’t you always see it in your mind, just as if it was printed out? I can; and A-n-n looks dreadful, but A-n-n-e looks so much more distinguished. If you’ll only call me Anne spelled with an E, I shall try to reconcile myself to not being called Cordelia.

For years, I managed to pass as a Sarah-with-an-h. I possibly even lied a little in order for my drivers’ license to say “Sarah.” My diplomas all said “Sarah.” I was Sarah, not Sara. I figured I’d make it officially official when I got married, but then I discovered that the Social Security office only changes last and middle names, not first names. I thought I’d have to go through the courts, but then I discovered that for a simple spelling change, all I needed to do was request an amended birth certificate from the Department of Vital Records and pay a $15 filing fee. I got myself a new birth certificate, and while I now probably have an identity document trail too sketchy to run for president, I’m officially Sarah Sweatt Orsborn.

Needless to say, I think it’s important and powerful to be able to name and claim yourself and your identity.

Fast forward several years, and now my little Etta has started making it clear that she wants to be known by both her first and middle names. While my non-Southerner husband wasn’t too keen on the idea of a double name, it seems our girl has other ideas. We’ve always called her Etta, but she proudly introduces herself “NAME ETTA JANE!” Claire calls her Etta Jane, too. As far as I can tell, she figured Claire Bear has two names, so Etta Jane should as well. And who am I to deny my girl the naming rights I so proudly claimed for myself? If she wants to be known as Etta Jane, then I’m going to have to train myself to call her that.

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Name Etta Jane.

 

 

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you’re so sebastian

When my sister and I were kids, our parents didn’t allow us to call other people “stupid.” So we did what any smart kids would do: we created a code word that worked just as well. Our code word? “Sebastian.” Ariel’s very own personal crustacean buzzkill was a natural choice for a couple of kids whose first movie in the theater was The Little Mermaid. “You’re so Sebastian,” we would say to each other, and the recipient would TOTALLY know exactly what we meant. It became something of a family joke, and to this day, my Papa, particularly when he is performing a monologue on behalf of the dog in his special dog-voice, will use the word “Sebastian” to call someone a nitwit.

This is why I was surprised when I saw that the name “Sebastian” has now arrived on the top 50 list of boys’ names. Guess all those people just don’t know they’re basically naming their kids “Stupid.”

 

*Note: if you named your kid Sebastian, I am sure that he is not, in fact, stupid. It’s a great name. But it will always first and foremost make me think “Stupid.” And then it will remind me of “The Neverending Story.” And then I’ll want to put a necklace on my head and pretend to be The Childlike Empress. And THEN it will make me think of twee rockers Belle and Sebastian. The end.

 

PS: Have you “liked” my new Facebook Page yet?