Existence

Many of the folks I know from the native village Angoon have two first names. Family surnames include George, Fred, and Jim. I kind of knew the reason why, but I had to ask some friends and they confirmed my suspicion.

White people could not pronounce the Tlingit names so in our amazing sensitivity we made life easier for us. I apologized to my friends, not to take on the guilt of ancestors, but because I know myself well enough to know I'm probably lazy enough to take a shortcut on some of the tricky Tlingit sounds.

I also apologize to my Norwegian friends Joar and Lars Erling whom we called Hans and Frans. And to my friend in Tanzania whose real name I do not recall, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't LL Cool J.

I'm really not that sorry for Hans and Frans because I am from a family of teasers and it is in my DNA to appreciate thick skin. My name has often been slaughtered and it doesn't help that I was raised during the time of Atari. Spell check still fixes my name to Atari, but that is better than Kirt who gets fixed to "skirt".

Our dear friends Godson and Haika.
Also pictured is my favorite Dostoevsky t-shirt
that mysteriously disappeared. Not obviously related,
but has existential implications.

But, I do recognize the arrogance of renaming people to make it easier for those in power. And I recognize the importance of learning names.

There are several mantras in the Stage-Harvey house:

1. Choices have consequences
2. I'm not your personal servant so pick-up after yourself
3. No, you may not have the bear, goat, lizard, bunny, etc. even if you do promise to take care of it.
4. Be respectful
5. Always acknowledge someone's existence

There are lots more, but learning names and how to pronounce them is closely linked to acknowledging existence. An easy way to insult someone in Tanzania (I'd argue our culture too) is to say, "I can't remember his/her name." It was a way of saying someone was too insignificant to remember.

I try to be good with names. When I meet someone, I use their name three times to make it stick in my brain. I do forget and bribe other people to ask for a name when I'm too embarrassed, but I try.

Regardless, even if I don't know a name, I acknowledge people and the fact they exist. People often live to our expectations so when we give identity and dignity, people tend to live into that.

Pastor Sue at Resurrection Lutheran talked about a teenager who welcomed everyone with a cheery "hello" at the Suicide Prevention Conference. When asked about it later, he responded that being acknowledged saved his life.

Learn names and say "hello." Too many people feel invisible or minimized and I'm not too lazy to change that.