What's in a Name?

When women's rights advocate, Lucy Stone, decided to marry Henry Browne Blackwell in the 1850s, she kept her maiden name. By the year 1990, 23% of women followed Stone's lead. Now twenty-three years later, that percentage has dwindled drastically and only 8% of women keep their maiden name (theknot.com). So what exactly is in a name? Is it a personal preference, a familial obligation, or just a long day spent at the DMV?

I love my name, and I always have. Few people have my name (except for a professional jump-roper in Germany) and even fewer can pronounce it. To me, it's not just a name. It's my great-grandparents, my grandparents, my father. It's the street sign in Germany which I proudly stood under while my friends took my picture at just sixteen years old. It's studying the German language for six years so I could understand the insults and swear words my grandfather gave to news anchors on the television. I love everything that my name posesses both past and present. But unfortunately, the long line of fiesty, independent, and sometimes too honest of beings who were graced with this name will soon come to an end. My grandfather had just one son and his son had just one child...a daughter. That daughter was me.

If my German heritage wasn't enough to sway my decision, may I now introduce to the room my nickname: Fred. I love my nickname, Fred, for a variety of reasons. It's simple, memorable, and it is pretty darn cool to say the least. Many people have nicknames and depending upon the circumstance, they may have several. I, however, just have one. I respond to Fred more than my first name, and I don't think twice when writing it. What makes it more special to me than any of my reasons previously listed is that it came from my first year of students...the Class of 2008. I've taken this name as a term of endearment and respect. Of loving me (in a non-creepy way, of course). Fred is my job that I continue to love and be blessed with. If I could embrace just one four letter word for the rest of my life, Fred would be it.

I truly "Feel the Fred." 

My decision would be much easier if Joe had a silly last name (I will let you determine what you deem as silly). But like mine, his has roots that stem beyond Napa, California and Cherry Hill, New Jersey. His last name is cioppinno from his grandfather, Oakland A's baseball games with his mom, seafood on Christmas Eve, and owning the deluxe edition of The Godfather (cue the music here). He may not have the premium olive oil skin that he claims, but his name is as Italian as they come. And not Italian like Olive Garden/Jersey Shore Italian. Italian like we will squeeze your cheeks and kiss your lips off one minute and tell you to go $#(!&# yourself with hands waving the next.

Joe felt that I should keep my name. I like it, he doesn't mind it, and I'm just plain and simple Fred (even when we are out in public and someone yells, "Fred!" he's not so creeped out). But then I realized that Fred will always be my name because it's who I am and what I feel inside. One student remarked, "it's kind of like you are going through an identity crisis, huh Fred?" Why yes, yes it is. So in short and simple terms, just like Fred implies, I will always and forever be Fred. It reminds me of my German heritage; it reminds me of my students. For legal purposes, however, I will adopt Joe's last name because his family is made of good stuff too, like pasta fagioli.