What's in a name?

I remember lying in bed with baby-name book in hand trying to narrow the list of 100 million perfectly good baby names down to a list I could comprehend. Having just returned from a day-long adoption seminar which covered everything from grief to cultural identity to travel restrictions, I relished the idea of giving my little boy a new name for this new phase of life.

We'd read articles about intercountry adoption and naming. Was it better to maintain the Korean name, or give them a name that no one would end up questioning at every turn. Seemed even the experts and adult adoptees hadn't arrived at a concensis. We decided that we would maintain the given Korean name as a middle name for our child. To give him the opportunity to claim his Korean name as his first name if he desired in the future.

Of course this was all before we knew who our little boy would be. When we met Emmett, we called him resolutely by his Korean name. He had known that name for 2 years of his life, how else were we going to get his attention. Slowly we began to add "Emmett" to the front of his name. However, whenever he referred to himself he would use his Korean name. It didn't bother me that he used his Korean name, it was how he identified himself. Eventually we stopped using his Korean name and switched to another common Korean language norm, adding "ah" at the end of his American name. That's when he became Emmett ah. Finally, the ah was no longer needed, and Emmett would respond without batting an eye to Emmett. No modification needed. We had accomplished our goal, right? Now he would respond to the name WE gave him. That was the goal, right?

Last night, as we drove the hour long commute home from preschool & work, we talked about his day, and his friends. I began to joke that Emmett was a silly goose. I asked him, "Are you a silly goose?" his response was a giggly "no". I continued to play on the silly goose theme, until I asked "Are you Seong-jin?" to which he responded a firm (no giggles here) "No". When I asked are you "Emmett". He shouted "yes!". I guess he got it. I admit I was suprised and a bit sad by his reaction to his Korean name. What had happened?

I never realized what is in a name - but I think it holds a part of our identity. Would I still be me, if my name were Judy, Betsy, Zillah? Would a rose be as sweet if it was called a Stinkweed? I've had a number of names and nicknames throughout my life. I even searched for my own identity in my name. Forcing everyone to change the spelling of Jenny to better fit with my full name when I was about 12. Names are personal to us, how often do we accidentally offend someone by the innocent mispelling of their name? Or read a name and pronounce it incorrectly? I didn't think of how changing Emmett's name might change how he preceived his identity. I know that he is three, and might not even understand what has changed. But there is a part of me that grieves for the loss of his Korean name in day-to-day interaction. I don't want him to think that I only love him as Emmett. I loved him long before I knew he'd be Emmett - I love him as Seong-jin, as Emmett, as my son, because it's him that I love, not his name.

Only time will tell what Emmett's new name will mean to him, and whether he'll return to his Korean name. I hope that if/when that happens I will not be offended at his rejection of his American name. I hope that I can be encouraging and supportive no matter what he desires to be called. Even if it's Mephibosheth.