What’s Your Real Name?

What’s In a Name?

Wind brings the word of Gods. The Word is in the Wind. And the Word is God. Does your name evoke a pleasant Goddess or a gnarly old poop Goddess? People thank me for my name. They say, “Thank you for saying that beautiful name! It’s musical.” I answer, “Starsinger, I made it up myself. So glad it pleases you.” I am not making this up. It happens all the time. Sound matters. If your name is ugly, people cringe when they hear it. If they cringe when you say your name, you have more crap to overcome at the outset.

Why would a person want to change her name? I say “her” because from the time we can speak, our mothers told us girls that our names would change when we married. It was a rite of passage to which I looked forward. I wondered, “What will my name be? It was so exciting to imagine.” Boys do not wonder what their names will be. Boys know who they are, and that does not change for them. The question is “Why should I care?” Does it really matter what we call ourselves and who we are named after? Actually, it does.

It does matter because girls feel inferior about their perceived “inability” to pass on the name. I heard this discussion at home frequently and it always felt like my personal failure that “Julie will get married and won’t pass the Peterson name on.” For one thing, “oh poor her” – in a world of 7 billion, who cares? The Petersons are not Kings of state. Nobody cares if they ever hear the word “Peterson” again.

It never occurred to me as a girl that I could make a baby and name it “Poo Poo McPeterson” on the birth certificate and that would be that.

It has been several years since I officially changed my name from Julie Peterson to Jewell Starsinger and at this point, it feels perfectly natural. So what took me so long? I created that name 15 years ago at the hippie sweat lodge while lying on my back stargazing by the pool. My friend Devlin was there and as I exclaimed the name out loud, “Starsinger!” he immediately gave me the thumbs up. After that he called me Starsinger whenever he saw me. It made me a bit uncomfortable. Inside my head I thought it was a bit silly. “All the hippies are doing it!” And honestly, I wasn’t even quite sure why I entertained the notion of name change. I became Starsinger for most of my art projects, but was usually ambivalent and so my projects from the 90’s and early 2000’s carried both names, as if I had magical parents that would grant me this super-heroine identity if I used it on art.

The Heavy Hyphen

Lacking the fortitude for name change, many women use the hyphenated name. Women are reluctant to give in to their so-called maiden names, because they call it “their maiden name.” The truth is, it’s not their name. It’s the patriarchal lineage of their family. Women have no lineage. Anything that we have in terms of ownership or credibility is perpetuated through the underground.

Now that we have adopted the double surname for married women, it’s the best of both worlds. Women can now carry two patriarchal lineages while grunting softly. Those hyphenated names are bulky. Then we must ask which name the baby gets? Almost always, the father, and how dare I imply that there’s anything wrong with that! Women often say that they took their husband’s name so they will have the same name as their children. It is simply assumed that the child’s last name will come from the father. There is no waffling on this subject.

I know a lovely woman, that kept her maiden name and for years it hasn’t been an issue for anyone in the family. The children have the father’s name. I wonder if it would have been quite so mellow if she had requested her name for them, especially since they are boys. That is really the bottom line here. An independent thinking woman who keeps her father’s name is still going to lose lineage because her children won’t have her father’s name coming through her. This practice self perpetuates the desire for sons. Name identity is huge. Gigantic. Monolithic.

Our parents get to name us for the rest of our lives. But what if our parents gave us a terrible name? Most people with terrible surnames learn to live with them. If you had any of these names would you legally change them?

Humiliating Naming

Randy Hooker, Hitler, Harry Dicke, Luscious Cox, Lipschitz, Ben Dover, Stef Craps, Dixie Normous, Wang Liqin, Judy Graham Swallows (oh come on now!), Jack Kanoff, Wendy Wacko, Robert Fagot, Dick Kok, Man Fuk, Dick Tips, Mike Litoris, BJ Cobbledick (a woman), Chew Kok, and Rusty Kuntz, and this poor kid who introduced himself literally with his head hanging down, Robert Raper.

There is a discussion on Yahoo about a young couple with terrible names that are expecting a child. They thought they should hyphenate so the kid’s name will be Pecker-Kok. Oh that’s just great! Out of dozens of advice givers one person actually suggested that they choose a new family name together. Personally, I couldn’t think of a better idea, but that good idea was shot down immediately and after that, not one more person entertained the plan. In fact, it got zero Yahoo votes. No one agreed with the idea of changing terrible names to good ones. Not for themselves, not for their child. One writer suggested a nice, European first name to offset the terrible last name. She suggested Etienne. If your first name sounds European it’s okay for your last name to suck like it’s a big dick, literally. Is it tradition that makes us so stubborn?

A Shitty Name is Not Sacred

This is about tradition and tradition is about Saturn, Capricorn and the Astrological number 10. Saturn limits, takes time and grants authority, but how can a literal crappy name grant any of things? Maybe the answer lies in another Saturnine attribute; stubbornness. Just when I begin to believe in my own knowledge, I defer to the reality; a real butt kicker!

My dad was nice, and there was nothing wrong with my maiden name. So why did I want to change it? Maybe I simply wanted to feel the experience of it. Nothing wrong with that. In fact, it is normal for a Gemini to check out new experience like that. Having been married a few times during the feminist era, I had changed my name and found it oddly interesting, but never did I choose. Peterson, Ferguson, Tuter and Oster were given to me. As much I like gifts, you know what the Rabbi said… (paraphrase) “The gift that is asked for and given freely, for the asking, is the most treasured and the sign of the highest love.”

I wanted to gift myself with the highest love, a name of my choosing that would create harmony when spoken instead of uncomfortable silence.

I think there is more to this naming than we realize. Why are people reluctant to change their names? My parents died in 1982 and I didn’t make the change until 2011. What was I waiting for? No one remained to feel slighted or insulted. This is a deep seeded identity issue. Saturnian tradition provides an identity. We cling to it, and it twines around us. The more tightly it twines, the sturdier support it provides, like an exoskeleton. Do names literally hold us up? I am sure they do, just not so sure how it works. When any professional person says, “Miss Starsinger,” in person or over the phone, it gives me a rare sense of personal grace. It’s really quite simple: I made her utter those sounds. She said “Starsinger” because I filled out the documents and went to the courthouse. I am responsible for that sound being sent into the ethers.

To Name is Power

Young parents feel powerful when naming a child, but they probably don’t know why. They are creating a vibration that will echo through the sands of time; the winds of change; the ebb and flow. Naming adds a new wind into the consciousness of the world. We all want to make our own mark, so make your own mark. Choose your name and say it out loud, often and in harmony with the music of the spheres.