Naming Our Children

by Jane Geller Epstein

We know that a “rose by any other name is still a rose...” and that “a rose is a rose is a rose….” But when is a rose known by another name, and when is a rose not a rose? It is all, of course, a matter of naming and semantics. We Jews attach much to names, as do many cultures. The names by which we are known go back thousands of years, some more than four thousand. They originated with our earliest Hebrew ancestors, whose own names were perhaps borrowed from the civilizations in which they lived and through which they traveled. Our own more recent relatives acquired names, willingly or forcibly, also under the influence of the local population. Ivan, Irving, Morris, Eugene, Bayla, Sadie, Milly, and Molly all in just a few generations transformed into Allen, Mitchell, Evan, Betsy, Sheila, and Megan. Throughout the generations, our names have mirrored our surroundings while also reaching back to those who preceded us.

Within the Jewish tradition, names can be inherited from friends or relatives who have died (as in the Ashkenazic tradition) or from those who are lovingly still alive (as amongst the Sephardim). Names can be bestowed upon children according to the season or time of their birth – such as Esther, for a girl born near the holiday of Purim, or Aviva for a girl born in the flowering spring (in Hebrew “aviv” means spring). Sometimes the parents want to attach a particular attribute to the child through a name – such as Nechama (meaning, consolation) after the death of someone dear, or Yaffa (Hebrew for beautiful), for the joy of seeing such a beautiful child born to them.

In modern times, rather than taking a literal name in honor or memory of another person, parents often take the first letter of the name of one to be remembered and then choose a name they prefer that begins with the same letter. Or, some parents take a Yiddish form of a name that had been popular in Europe and then update it to an appropriate Hebrew form (Yossel becomes Yosef, Lazer becomes Elazar or Eliezer, Sura becomes Sara, etc.).

Having worked in nursery schools for many years, I saw trends, both encouraging and discouraging, in names that parents gave to children. Over the years, I saw children being given the names of relatives of my parents’ generation: Sam, Max, Molly and Sophie. I saw the influence of Hebrew and names from Israel: Yael, Tal, Yehuda and Galit. And, of course, I saw names that were a mirror of our popular culture: Tiffany, Mackenzie, Chad and Liam. For more than 30 years, my husband and I have followed the birth announcements in a weekly Jewish community newspaper. We never could understand how Brittany Joy could be named for great-grandma Sara Leah, or how Bradley Scott was derived from Avraham David. We all want our children to blend into the world in which they live. Hopefully in doing so, we do not deprive them of connecting back to the individuals whose memories are being preserved.

Names are very personal, and sometimes as the child matures he or she rejects the name that had been given at birth. Many years ago, our youngest child decided around the age of 8 that she no longer liked her name. She told us that she wanted to be known, instead, as Debbie. We were shocked, but responded that we had just recently written a will which cited her as Arielle. She could use the name Debbie, but she would not be recognized as such through the will. That was the last and only time she asked us to call her Debbie.

With the use of name dictionaries, we can spend a full nine months of pregnancy pondering names each day until a child is born. Sometimes parents do not want to use a name for someone they want to memorialize because relatives from the other side of the family already have the same name, or maybe someone they once knew and disliked had that name. Instead, finding meaningful variations often work. My grandmother’s English name was Rose. Her Hebrew name was Rachel. In today’s world, a girl named for her could easily be called Rachel, Vered (Hebrew for Rose) or Shoshana (another word for rose).

I have attended many brit mila ceremonies and simchat bat or namings for girls at which the parents explained in detail how they arrived at the name (or names – first and middle) for the child. At one, the father related that the name they chose reflected the struggle to conceive and give birth to the child. (Along this line, our ancestor Isaac – meaning laughter – was named because his father and mother each laughed when told that they would become parents in their old age.) One of our daughters was due on Rosh Hashana, the time of the year when God judges us for our actions during the previous year and seals our fate for the year to come. Accordingly, we gave her the middle name Danielle, referring to God as judge (the Hebrew word for judge is “dayan”).

Our Rabbis long ago said that we all have three names – one given to us by God at conception, one that our parents gave us (through which we are known), and the one we earn through our actions during our lifetime (either for good or for bad). May the names we choose to give our children reflect the holiness of their destinies and the remembrance of those who came before them. And may all of our children acquire names of renown for the good that they will do for others and to improve the world.