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Today, I came across a site called NaBloPoMo (National
Blog Posting Month). I was immediately inspired by the
suggestion for today’s blog post: How Do You Feel About
the Name given to you at birth?
I do not possess the name I was given at birth. We parted
ways, legally, over a decade ago. Since assuming my true
name my life has changed in fundamental ways. I have
gotten married and divorced. I had a child and he’ll be
entering first grade in September. I have written and
published three books. I have published the work of three
other authors. However, the change that underlines and
informs all other changes is that I am more myself.
My mother let my father name me and he named me according
to naming practices which also decided his name. I was
the first daughter of my mother so my name was ordained.
Apparently, it wasn't significant that my dad had two
older daughters; one of whom happened to be the first
daughter of her mother. Therefore she and I shared the
same name. With the hindsight of 20/20, it seemed as if I
was designed to fit into a construct; one which didn’t
fit. As a result, I was Toby with his foot cut off, not
Kunta who had a penchant for running from slavery.
When I learned about freedom, I wanted to be free and
freedom meant a new name. Frederick Douglass, not
Frederick Bailey. Harriet Tubman, not Araminta Ross.
Assata Shakur, not JoAnne Cheismard. In other words, I
wanted the freedom that comes with self-naming. However,
ironies of ironies, in obtaining that freedom, I became
more bound to my family, more my mother’s daughter, more
decidedly African than I had been under my birth name. To
quote a Bessie Head character, “I [was] just an African”.
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