Essay: Playing House: Naming Possibilities & Power in Our Identity

Playing house as an 8 year old girl was a daily occurrence, especially when I stayed at my cousin’s house over the weekends. We would do our nails, our hair, get dressed, and set the scene. “This is your house and this is mine. Here, this can be your baby.” A brown, plastic, football sized baby doll is placed in my little hands and I’m rattled with the question, “What’s her name?” I could give her a more classic name like Ruth, or something with a little bit more pizazz like Jazz. I wanted this name to encompass all of the possibilities this baby could live up to but not be subjugated to do so. I wanted her name to be a window that showcased a liberal and strong young woman, with creativity and elegance at her hip. I wanted her name to say it all before she had to. Even as a growing third grader, I felt that names held a certain power. When meeting someone it is the second thing people use to assume who you are, after your charming good looks of course. It is a way to give a complete stranger a look into your culture, gender, age, or maybe even your personality without even really knowing you. But does giving something such as a name so much pertinence really define who you are and how your life will be?
People throughout time have always put prestige in a name; the symbolism it holds, the origin, and the meaning behind that name. In ancient Greek and Egyptian folk tales, when a person knows the name of a mythological creature, they possess dominance or power over that creature. A modern example of this would be in the Harry potter series, people fear of saying Voldemort’s name because they feared he would appear on command. Another example could be found in the Bible, the first verse in Genesis God says, “Let there be light,” and there was. He goes on, names everything first, and then brings them into fruition. He gives man the right to name animals, symbolically giving man dominance over animals as God has over man. Naming something as a way to show dominance has not gone out of fashion over time. Englishmen would rename the streets and cities of Ireland to assert dominance and control. This is a psychological weapon used against certain groups in every form of oppression; sexism, heterosexism, classism, racism, colorism, ableism, ageism, etc. In class we talked about how names like goddess, princess, or beautiful are often seen as positive feminine affirmations, whereas bitch, hoe, and pussy are deemed as negative female labels given to women by patriarchal men. These names, or labels, are an example of the oppressor possessing their power through “good” and “bad” names.
When I was 10 years old, a friend of my mothers’ asked me if I would ever considered changing my name to be taken more seriously in society and to get a good job. She went on to talk about how people, especially women of color, have difficulty getting that CEO position with a nonconventional name. This made me realize, in a society where you are judged by your looks and your name for a job position/title, we still don’t hold precious cultural names on a pedestal even though we so desperately want to know and assume people’s heritage by their names. NYU found that if your name is easier to pronounce people will favor you more, Shippensburg University suggested that uncommon names are associated with juvenile delinquency, and one study by The Atlantic found that if you have a more “white” sounding name you have a 50% higher chance of getting a call back for a job. If I took away my name, would I still be me? It sounds strange but there is power in a name. Think of Les Miserable and how when the ex-criminal is released back into society he stops referring to himself as ‘24601’, changing his name helps him regain his humanity. So would it liberate me as well?
As a child I moved around a lot, which gave me the ability to “reinvent” myself every time I went to a new school. When I was 14 we moved to Georgia and I decided (without telling my mother) that I wanted to be called Mari instead of Mariyom. It wasn’t that big of an adjustment since it was just an abbreviation of my actual name, the first few days were easy but as the weeks went on it became annoying. Every time the teacher would call attendance I would dread when she said, “Mariyom Muhammad”, I would have to correct her and say, “It’s Mari. Here.” Then people would bombard me with questions like is that your real name, how do you spell it, why do you like to be called Mari instead, do some people call you Mariyom, what does it mean? What does it mean? I decided to let people start calling me Mariyom the rest of the school year, and as expected we moved as the semester came to end.
My first day of high school was pretty nerve wrecking but also another opportunity to “reinvent” myself. I introduced myself as Mariyom to my peers and the expected “Maryam” and “Maryum” were always repeated to me. People always mispronounced my name, so I thought about going by Mari again. I impulsively introduced myself to my now best friend Hakim, as Mari. He studied my face and said, “You don’t look like a Mari.” As I explained to him that my real name is Mariyom he asked, “What does it mean?” That question I had been avoiding since I was 10 years old. I responded by telling him it was Arabic for Mary, he replied with, “No, what does it mean to you?” I never thought about it that way. My name could mean anything I wanted it to mean as long as I believed it. I gave the mispronunciation of my name the power to make me feel a certain way so why couldn’t I give the correct pronunciation of my name a positive equivalence? I held the power of what my name meant and it felt great.
Through research, time, and self-evaluation, I have come to the conclusion that a name doesn’t define who you are or are going to be, but they are important. How could I end this by not quoting the great Shakespeare, “What’s in a name?” Mariyom: a name that showcases a liberal and strong young woman, with creativity and elegance at her hip. My name says it all be