My sister and I were the unfortunate bearers of names with Cultural Significance, but not in the way you might think. I was born just a few years before the movie Star Wars appeared on the scene, and my relatively uncommon name was suddenly everywhere. It only got worse after She-ra Princess of Power became one of the most popular female superheroes and my sister Shira and I were asked – did your parents name you after princesses? –  on a regular basis. Even without considering my royal namesake, I complained that my parents, when naming me for one of the Matriarchs, had chosen the unwanted fertile daughter as a model for their firstborn. Was that the future they envisioned for me?

My children are no different when it comes to their own names, lovingly chosen and bestowed upon them. Too frum. Too Israeli. Too hard for Americans to pronounce. Too esoteric. Too popular. Maybe it was always going to be this way. Maybe we would inevitably complain that our parents had been given the task of deciding how we would be presented to the world, wanting so desperately to decide for ourselves who we are.  

For Jews, naming is a consequential act. From our first introduction into the world, where friends and family listen with excitement as the new title is announced, comically large for such a small being, our names aren’t just the way we appear on the classroom roster. Or on our Passports. Or on our diplomas. 

Our names are the way we are called up to the Torah. The way people pray for us when we have something momentous happen, when we go through a challenging time and come out grateful on the other end. They are a reminder of our ancestors. They’re a parent’s hope for our future. 

So it’s curious that names are so easy to change. Avram and Sarai become Abraham and Sarah, Jacob becomes Israel. And with the divine imprimatur to boot. Every person who chooses Judaism also chooses a new label to go with their new identity. And, notably, there is a widespread custom of changing the name of someone who is gravely ill. There are many different explanations for this practice. Some believe that this ‘tricks’ the evil eye, some that it forces the decree of death to be revoked (since it was a decree for someone with a different name) and there are those who believe mishaneh makom mishaneh mazal – changing your circumstances will change your luck.

For most of my life, calling myself a Zionist has been part of who I am. The Jewish people has a right to self determination in its ancestral homeland? Sign me up. Pretty much every Jew I knew growing up in the United States considered themselves a Zionist. We sometimes had wildly disparate political positions. We........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)