What's in a name?

You get some funny questions in this journey, don't you? We aren't that far into it, and we already have a collections of odd, ill-informed, and the downright offensive comments and questions. One thing in we continually get asked about is Seoul Baby's birth name.

He will be named in Korea, and we do have the ability to change his name after bringing him home. We've talked about this many times and haven't made a final decision.

Renaming someone seems wrong. It feels like taking something from Seoul Baby that was not ours to take. It seems like giving him a new name to match his new country and his new life, is an effort to wipe the slate clean of his past. It can be viewed as "cultural erasure" as a blogger (and Korean adoptee) at Twice the Rice has deemed it.

"Adopted children whose birth parents named them deserve to carry that piece of their heritage with them, as it is one of the few parts of their birth histories they can lay claim to, as part of their very own, real, authentic, true-life stories. 


Adoptees, such as myself, whose names were given to them by social workers, nurses or orphanage intake workers may find that although those names don’t represent a piece of their birth histories or bloodlines, they nonetheless represent pieces of their rightful histories."

Read the rest of her fabulous post on keeping a child's given birth name here.

There is something special about having a name bestowed to you. Think of all the thought that must have went into that decision! My full first name is spelled quite originally (I don't post my full spelling here for anonymity reasons) . It's something I hated as a kid (never could find cool pencils or bracelets at the fair with my name on them) but something I've cherished as an adult. A man recently commented on the creative spelling of my name, for which I gave my mother credit. He asked if I was creative (which I am) and it was his opinion that your name sets the foundation for your life. I was given a creative name, and therefore I am creative. Perhaps he has something there.

Seoul Baby's given name, whether given from his birth mother or foster mom, is a link to his Korean identity. It's a real connection to his birth country. And it's part of his history. 

We are two middle-class white folk, and although we will do our best, he won't be able to learn much about his Korean identity from us. His name may not tie him to his family, but it was given to him by people who loved him, cherished him, and made the best choices for him that they could.

Who are we to take that away from him? And for what? Because we want him to fit in? Because we want to choose a name of our liking? Because it's hard to pronounce some Korean names?

Those concerns are, of course, very real. How do we balance these things?

We are keeping in mind that children don't like to stand out in a crowd, which he will probably already do. So will having a Korean name make his life more difficult? Will it exacerbate the differences he may already feel from his peers? Would it become a constant reminder of the people and life he left behind? Or could it be a portal to help him fit in with other Koreans?

He will also be at least 8-months-old when he comes home (and likely older) and may not respond well to a name change.

I don't know. There's plenty of opinions on this topic from adoptees, on both sides of the fence.

Back to our decision...we are pretty sure that we will keep his Korean name, we just not sure if it will be what we call him on a daily basis. We want to see what his name is and work from there. We think we'll know the right thing to do when the time comes.

One person, on learning that we were considering keeping his Korean-given name, seemed appalled. "I certainly hope you are going to raise him American." I have no idea what that means. What connection does having a Korean name have to do with raising him American?

I guess that's a topic worth exploring later.

(photo credit: djearworm.com)