Opinion: Child's name can doom or inspire

It may be your destiny.

Once upon a time in this country, there were traditional names that had meaning, and you could trace their tradition and meaning through hundreds, even thousands of years and a variety of cultures: Steven, from the Greek, meaning “crowned one.” John, from the Hebrew, meaning “God is merciful.” Richard, from the English/German, meaning “strong ruler.”

Over time, the American name lexicon has expanded to include traditional names from a broader range of cultures: Aziza, a Middle Eastern name meaning “cherished.” Jabari, an African name meaning “fearless.” And I think that’s wonderful. Because these are names with meaning and tradition that convey something to and even about the bearer.

But a growing phenomenon that, as an editor, makes me foam at the mouth, is uniquely American names that have neither meaning nor tradition, nor any semblance of reason in their spelling.

For example, if you want to name your child Ashley, meaning “from the ash tree,” name her Ashley, or even Ashleigh, but for heaven’s sake, don’t name her Ayshley.

In the world in which I grew up, people chose names for their meaning, and the people bearing those names differentiated themselves by their accomplishments – not by misspelling their name with randomly placed vowels and consonants. And what is this fascination with the letter “Y”?

Please understand that, as an editor, I have a utilitarian view of the language; to me the purpose of words – or names – is to convey meaning.

So I wonder, why do so many of today’s parents feel they have to reinvent the wheel when it comes to spelling their child’s name? Is it a competitive thing? Do people feel they have to come up with a unique, trademark name for their child?

Don’t parents realize they’re dooming their child to a lifetime of telling people “No, it’s spelled with two Y’s” and still getting a blank look?

And how is that child going to feel, after explaining the intricate spelling of his name, when someone says, “Oh, OK. Well, what does it mean?” and he has to say “It means nothing.”

Or, as an angst-ridden teen: “It means my parents are idiots. Leave me alone!”

Making up your child’s name might be a big ego boost for you in the role of creator, but have you considered what it will look like on a résumé?

Until recently, when I saw a traditional name with a nontraditional spelling, my first reaction was, “Oh, how sad, his parents are illiterate,” or “The doctor must have gone a little heavy on Mama’s pain medication during labor.”

The truth is that you can bluster all you want about originality and individuality, but at the end of the day, there are still millions of people – many of them potential employers – who are going to assume your kid’s name is misspelled and make all kinds of judgments based on that assumption.

Recent research even shows that school teachers have lower expectations of children with “misspelled” names such as Kloe or Gyaike.

I grew up with an unusual name, Clarissa, and I still have to spell it for pretty much everyone, but I took pride in its difference and, especially, its meaning: “brilliant or clear” or in another interpretation, “famous,” or “making famous.”

In a way, consciously or not, I have tried to live up to that name. Now I am a newspaper editor whose job is to bring clarity, placed in a position where I can make famous – on a local scale – people and businesses.

Did my mother’s choice of a name define my destiny? Would I have done as well if my name had no meaning?

As time goes on, I’m sure I will either adjust to the meaningless names of today or they will fade away as the fad I hope they are.

But for the record, if I ever have to interview someone named Elizabeth who spells it “Ylyzybyth,” that’s the day I retire.

Clarissa French is editor of Springfield Business Journal. She has no children, but has named her dogs Bella, meaning “beautiful,” Zoe, meaning “life,” and Mr. Jones, meaning “family of John” in honor of a Bob Dylan song, a Counting Crows song and his family of origin.