What’s In A Name?
Just the other day, on social media, I read a friend’s story of why they changed their name. In their case, there was some family baggage, so they thought about making a fresh start by changing their name. For them, the new name felt more real than their birth name. It made sense to me.

Then, I thought about one of my favorite movies, My Family (Mi Familia) by Gregory Nava. In it , there was a character, Guillermo, who decided to go by “Bill,” presumably to assimilate into “mainstream” American culture and pass with people including his future in-laws (whom he brought to meet his own family).

Lastly, I look at my own relationship with my name. When my parents were thinking of a name for me, they liked José. A neighbor boy was, also, named Jose and he had a middle name. They wanted a middle name for me, too, so they found one that sounded good in Spanish.

I have written a few times about growing up: no one said anything negative about my name. Nonetheless, I went through a phase, where I didn’t really like my name. This was something that was all in in my head. Overnight, I decided that I wanted to go by Joey. As it turned out, this change never stuck. It wasn’t until my teenage years that I grew into my name and began to use my middle initial. Now, I proudly bear the name that my parents gave me.

The one way that my name does cause me significant problems is with traveling. Summary (pieced together over the years): someone with my name committed some serious crimes. When I travel, it’s a crapshoot of whether my passport will be flagged and I’ll be “randomly” selected for further investigation. One of my last times traveling pre-pandemic, I was detained for my longest time to date. At the end, the only solution offered by a Border Patrol agent was to change my name (to anything else). While an easy answer, I don’t feel that I should have to change my name to work around the deficiency(ies) in their system(s) that I don’t know have yet been resolved. I (still choose to) proudly bear the name that my parents gave me.

It’s Time For A Change
I spoke about why my friend changing their name, why Guillermo became Bill and how I grew to use my birth name, which gave three different accounts of relationships to names. To get it out of the way, I’ll just say that a person and their name is a personal relationship. This being said, it seems to me that it’s more acceptable for people (in some communities) to embrace their birth names than before.

An example of then and now regarding names, I think of the Sheen/Estevez acting family. Patriarch, Martin Sheen, was born Ramón Antonio Gerardo Estévez (1st generation of Irish and Galician background). According to a Latina magazine article on his son, Charlie, Martin said in a 2003 episode of Inside The Actors Studio that his professional acting name was a combination of a CBS casting director, Robert Dale Martin, and the Catholic radio and TV televangelist, Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen. When he was starting, Martin Sheen found that he was able to keep more acting gigs after the name change.

Fast forward about twenty or thirty years, Sheen’s son, Emilio Estevez was coming up. Allegedly, he kept his name for two reasons. First, per a Latina magazine article, he liked the double E initials. Second, per a 1983 People magazine piece written by Gail Buchalter, Emilio didn’t want to be known as his father’s son, which is perfectly understandable. How great was it that he not only kept his last name but that he, also, passed it on to his own children?

Granted, I don’t know anybody that changed their name for professional reasons. The vibe that I detect is that it’s a bit more acceptable for many people to use their names (at least among my acquaintances that come to mind). However, I have still read articles over the years discussing the still existent discrimination against minorities, when it comes to consideration for employment (on the basis of their name). In my experience and knowledge, at least at the places where I have worked, people’s names were never a consideration when screening job candidates.

So Your Name Is…?
One question that I’m sure that people like me with “ethnic” names have received is, “Your name…what is that?” I forgot precisely when, but I came to the realization: this question usually means is that the name sounds strange or weird (to them) and it bothers them (on some level). For them, the name represents “them” (someone outside of their group) and they’re trying to figure out how to categorize that other person. Where do that other person fit relative to their cultural identity and experience?

Speaking for me, when I ask this question, I genuinely want to learn about that person. If they care to share, I would like to learn where they come from, maybe how they arrived to The US and more about their background. Maybe it’s that I grew up with immigrant parents, but I can’t help but want to truly learn about other people.

I would say that my hope is for names to no longer be looked at as a negative nor used to categorize people in an us-vs-them mindset but as a genuine way of getting to know others. I would love for people to proudly and freely use their names without having to pay a price (like me) or have to be forced to consider changing it. How great would it be, if these questions regarding names could be taken at face value.

WHAT'S YOUR NAME? ¿CÓMO TE LLAMAS?

Be sure to follow me at The Jose Rodriguez (Facebook), The Jose Rodriguez (Twitter) , The Jose Rodriguez (Instagram) or The Jose Rodriguez (Medium).

Also, if you know someone that would enjoy or benefit from reading this post or others, please share with them.