Skip to main content

Name It

I learned about two types of lava from a Hawaiian when visiting the Islands about 30 years ago.  He said that there are two words used to describe the two types.  "Ah Ah" is used when mentioning the sharp rocks you walk over with your bare feet.  "Pa hoe Hoe" is the term for the smooth lava that hardens like glass.  The words are onomatopoetic. That is, they sound like what they describe. When people walk over the rough lava they constantly exclaim "Ah Ah" because it hurts to walk on those blunt, jagged surfaces.  On "Pa Hoe Hoe" they say nothing; they just walk.
This metaphor can be applied to people as well.  Take the last two presidents, which word slips off the tongue easier Obama or Trump?  Which word has an abrupt sound?
It's fun to make that comparison but what does it really mean?  Do we dare judge people by the sound of their name?  Hardly.  But might there be something more here?
Names do carry the baggage of connotation.  People who have dropped one name or reinvented themselves for a film or singing career would be the first to agree.  This is what fuels the American story.  From Gatz to Gatsby, to Madonna to Common, the name's the thing.
In my view it takes a special kind of person to change his/her name.  Numerous examples abound, and aside from those skirting the law or wishing a complete re-boot to their lives, most name changers seem to have a sense of self that leaves little room for low esteem.  At least that's the impression that people like Muhammad Ali and Madonna give.  This quality, I suppose is to be admired.  It's the calling card of an extraordinary persona.  But it must be backed up with true talent or intellect, or a skill set that supports that identity.

What if the trend were reversed?  What if people began to add on more names?  The interest now present in having a DNA analysis shows that people are increasingly interested in learning about their roots.  For every identity in our genetic make-up we could add a name.  For example, the folks who share a combination of European and Mid-Eastern or African heritage would have a couple of new palettes from which to choose.  Of course we'd have to do some serious research to make sure what we are borrowing from or newly adopted cultures makes sense and truly represents a homage to a culture with which we share a bond.
A caveat:  When tattoos became popular, many people inked themselves with characters from Chinese or Japanese or other alphabets that appeared aesthetic.  Unfortunately some of those folks were sold more than a tattoo.  Their bodies were giving off other messages because of inferior translations!  What was supposed to be taken as a message of peace or love for all mankind was actually a statement about one's low intelligence in one case.  Not the kind of message you want to broadcast.  But that's the price of inauthenticity.  Our names are gifts that were given to us.  Best not to return them.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

To a Tee

 I'm a sucker for a good t-shirt.  They are the foundational garment of my life.  My day starts with selecting a t-shirt and it ends with sleeping in one.  Once thought of as under garments, t-shirts are now original art and no doubt, a billion dollar business.   You can get a t-shirt with anybody's picture displayed.  You can commemorate an event, a birthday, a death, even a specular play in any sport.  Family reunions usually have a commemorative t-shirt.  Also, any organization that solicits your support in the form of a donation is likely to offer you a t-shirt. Where once I only had the basic white t-shirt, my drawers are filled with all manner of colorful choices.  Some recognize major events in my life, some, spectacular performances or plays I have witnessed, and some unforgettable places I have been.   I say I'm a sucker for a good t-shirt because I have taken the bait on what I perceived as a must-have only to be disappointed. ...

Mr. Greene v. Mr. Brown

I want to tell you about something. Something I've carried inside myself for a number of years now. Perhaps if I were a different kind of person I wouldn't need to talk about it. I'm not. My need to tell it is stronger than your need to hear it. Because, however, there are a number of teachers and former students of mine who may read these meanderings from time to time, I need to tell this story all the more. About 7 or 8 years ago I was asked if I would allow a university PhD. candidate to observe an English class. At first I decided against it because I was scheduled to have a student teacher placed with me the second half of the semester in question. After some urging, however, at the request of a respected colleague, I agreed. Soon I was committing to extra meetings, signing documents and explaining to the class in question who the young woman who thoughtfully pounded away on a laptop in the rear of the classroom three times a week was. I knew that the topic of ...

Body Language

I'm sitting there in a hospital gown, waiting for my doctor to complete my yearly physical.  This is when I look at everything on the walls, read the medical posters, the instructions on any equipment in the room, look in every corner and behind every chair.  I study the paper on the examination table, laugh out loud at the picture of a smiling child holding a bouquet of broccoli, and the note the placement of the computer in the room. Finally, wondering if the gown I'm wearing is on correctly, I focus on myself.  At this point in my life I'm fairly comfortable in a doctor's office.  But it always seems to take so long when waiting for the doc to enter.  So I fidget.  Then I begin a tour of myself.  Scars are tattoos.  I look at the one on my knee and see myself at 12.  Whittling a piece of wood with my Boy Scout jack knife.  The blade slips and I cut a crescent slash through my jeans and into my flesh for life.  50 years later ...