What’s in a name?
A recent comment on my video blog has me reflecting on some of the weird reactions I have gotten to my name. For most of the early part of my life, people refused to call me by my name. I don’t think it’s that difficult to pronounce but some people’s immediate reaction is “What’s your nickname?” Um, sorry I don’t have one. I have been called Kendra, Keisha, Tina, Tanya, Kena, Keya as well as other names. In 9th grade this dude swore out that I was this other girl Kendra Edmonds (similarity acknowledged). Apparently this girl was in one of his classes and he kept asking me why I’m not showing up to class insisting that the teacher called my name everyday.
Growing up in Chesapeake, Virginia, I had to hear somewhat regularly “What kind of name is that?” not just from the kids but also from the adults. As a little girl I admit that it made me self-conscious. I’ve even heard this in 1991 (wow, that many years ago!) when I worked at a gift shop on Capitol Hill. (Is it ever right to ask a person what kind of name they have?)
Equally annoying are those that seek to “inform” me that Kenya is a country in Africa. I don’t remember a time when I did not know this. After all my mother didn’t just make up the name; she knew that Kenya is a country in Africa when she selected it. And she taught me that it was in Africa, were it was on the map, and that Nairobi was the capital among other things. Imagine that.
Some people seem disappointed that I don’t have an intriguing story about my name. It’s really simple: My father’s name is Kenneth and the name came to my mother as she was flipping through a magazine. She thought that it was the perfect name. There’s no story other than that – no safaris, no international intrigue – although I’ve thought that maybe I’ll make up a story (something about a Kenyan that went to Harvard) just to mess with folks. My mother grew up on a farm in Virginia and has only been out of the country once when I took her to the Bahamas for her birthday last year. At the same time, that doesn’t mean she is in anyway ignorant. She is a lover of art and literature but I digress …
Then there are those who seem extremely interested in my name in a way that seems creepy. I remember a question on how I got such an “exotic” name. Of course, I didn’t know how to take that but to reply that there were many girls and guys from my generation that have the same name. I remember meeting this girl at a gathering. I don’t remember the specifics but this girl went on and on about how I had such a responsibility on my shoulders being named after a whole country. I thought it was kind of weird (kind of like that time a lady was following me around a grocery store in New Brunswick, New Jersey saying I had distinctive features but that’s another story).
In recent years, I’ve confused and/or angered Kenyans with my name. I’ve had some sort of website since 1995. I’ve received messages from people (Kenyans presumably) disappointed by my site because they were looking for a site about the Republic of Kenya. I responded to that back then by placing a disclaimer at the top of the home page and link to somewhere like kenya.com.
There was also the time that I was stopped at the light. A dude in a truck beside me started speaking to me in a language that I assume was Swahili. I was like “Huh?” obviously confused. The guy yells “You’re not from Kenya” and angrily speeds away. I wondered how he got the impression that I was from Kenya. Well, on my keychain was a fob that was a miniature DC license plate with “Kenya” engraved. I still have this fob as things with my name are hard to come by.
The fact of the matter is that as a kid I had a hard time with my name. I always wanted a “normal” name – I don’t have one “normal” name – not my first name, not my middle name, not my last name. I have stories about my last name as well. At any rate, it wasn’t until late high school that I felt that I owned my name instead of it owning me. I don’t feel that my name disrespects anyone and I will not apologize for it. Although the combination of Kenya and Allmond does sound like some sort of coffee flavor.
There are a few people every now and then with jokes but it really doesn’t phase me. I really have heard them all. However, I have been taken by surprise though with those that are offended because they are confused by my name.
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5 Comment(s)
Kenya is beautiful name and as many of us know it is the same of one our African countries. But more importantly to me, it is the name of one of the smartest, hardworking, and most courageous persons I know. And if anyone out there knows the Kenya Allmond that I know that would be proud that such beautiful person carries such a beautiful name.
A rose by any other name…
I never gave it any thought that your name is Kenya. Deep down, I think that no one is really happy with their name. After all, we hear it all of our lives. We heard it as a positive thing, and how many millions of times have our parents used it as a warning, or andomishment.
Especially parents that use the full name. Roy Vincent Allmond! It warms the cockles of by heart when I hear the news say something like “Robert William Smith was executed at 12:08 a.m.” When I know full well that until they were arrested, they were known as something like “Booger Bob.”
Anyway, back to the subject at hand.
Most people have been named by some reason. Once it is explained, it makes sence. For instance, It is my understanding, that in some cultures Mohammad is used to hame the first born. Which explains why there are so many people with the name.
Others are named after a relative, in one of the families tree. One extreme would be seen in The Dick Van Dyke show that explains why little Ritchie (that was the sons name … right?) middle name was ROSEBUD.
So, it is only natural that people would attempt to show in interest in learning something about you, and ask about your name.
At least your name is not Peek-a-boo. Like the Olympic skier.
In reality, any name is fine, and most people do not change their name. Although, I heard of several stories involving changing names. One involved a gay rights political activist, that changed his name to “I am a sissy fag,” and another person that changed their name once they became 18, they ran down to the courthouse and before the high school yearbook was printed, changed their name to “man gone trout fishing.” We all know about the story of “the artest formally known as Prince.”
I think that Kenya is a nice name. At least it is not as common as Roy. I get called Roy Clark, Roy Rogers, and some people have asked me how Ziegfeld is doing, or if they can see my scars from the tiger attack?
As far as last names go. I too, share the same last name and I explain to people that my name is like the nut but with two L’s because I have not have had the L shaken out of me.
In case you did not catch the joke, there is a saying (mnemonic) of how to pronounce almond’s (with the L pronounced) on a tree and almond’s (with the L silent) on the ground. If you had ever seen almond’s harvested, it is a sight to see. A big truck with a boom attaches to the truck of the almond tree. Then the boom starts to vibrate and thousands of almonds rain down. So, it is a play on words that “the L shaken is shaken out of the almond.”
A little family history. Apparently, I have ancestors on my paternal side of the family, that were slave owners. (oh God, I hope they were Thomas Jefferson who wanted the slaves freed) Up until Abraham Lincoln had freed the slaves, slaves were not given family names. Thus when they were freed, they were given a name. The most pervasive practice was to give them the slave owners family name.
I would have a problem of honoring a slave masters family name, especially if they were cruel. On the other hand, it could also work the other way too. By being a living testiment that ones, family history involved being enslaved by the British, and sold to the colonists. Do not get me started about that subject.
I remember reading “Tar Baby,” and one character in the book had elected to obtain the family name from the Bible. After all, everything in the Bible is good. Seemed logical. The person was (if I remember correctly) illerate and just open the good book, and pointed at a word, and another person read it. It turned out to be Death. Thus his family was known as the Death family. It has been … God … a few decades since I read it. So my memory of the whole story line is fuzzy. I should reread the book, I remembered liking it. I like to reread books, because after a while, they are new to me.
I understand the logic of parents giving their kids a unique name that somehow sounds like it comes from the continent (it is not a country, geez) of Africa. Hopefully your ancestry is at least rooted from Kenya. It would be almost comical, if your name was the name of the country that was your ancestors mortal enemy.
There is fear in my heart, that if it is true, as some people claim, that racism is as bad as it was in the 50′s (which I feel is either a reflection of how racist they are themselves, or another example of history not being taught very well in school). Then my giving names that do not sound “normal” or “American” then the parents are practically painting targets on their kids.
At least not as bad, as I have often said that if I ever had any children, and the name I would give the first two girls would be Blanche, and Joy.
)
Roy, you are hilarious with the L thing (I didn’t know about that BTW), ROSEBUD, and “Blanche and Joy”. I hadn’t even gone into the Allmond thing but I have been listed in school as “Allmond, Joy” before.
One of my goals for this year is to look more into my ancestry. I would not doubt that there have been instances where cultures that have been adopted by descendants of African slaves were actual enemies of their ancestors. Only recently has DNA testing been available that can match us to particular tribes but many are finding that they are more related to the British slave owners.
I always appreciate you stopping by, Roy.
i wish i would have completed your article before i had to just jump over and tell you my father’s name.
you’re so open and funny in your writing, it’s wonderful. you and i went through completely different experiences with our names, but several things you mentioned hit home for me.
I never thought of my name origin as being cool at all. it’s still mundane to me other than my mom is 75 now and still the most giving soul i’ve ever known. her and my dad fought and divorced so that’s part of the banality.
This paragraph you wrote is what it’s all about to me. it’s human and beautiful:
“Some people seem disappointed that I don’t have an intriguing story about my name. It’s really simple: My father’s name is Kenneth and the name came to my mother as she was flipping through a magazine. She thought that it was the perfect name. There’s no story other than that – no safaris, no international intrigue – although I’ve thought that maybe I’ll make up a story (something about a Kenyan that went to Harvard) just to mess with folks. My mother grew up on a farm in Virginia and has only been out of the country once when I took her to the Bahamas for her birthday last year. At the same time, that doesn’t mean she is in anyway ignorant. She is a lover of art and literature but I digress …”
And that is just…love.
Anyway, Kenya’s pretty much a girl’s name today. it was ALWAYS a girls name when i was a kid which was wonderfully sadistic for the older kids.
I didn’t really like my name until the girls started noticing me and the girls always loved my name. That’s when I realized I have an ‘cool’ name.
one thing that’s always been slightly, very slightly bothersome, even today in my 40′s, is when i get looked at sideways by certain folks after introducing myself. they almost never ask how i got my name or even if it’s my nickname…like neither answer will interest them.
You’re fun to read. It’s easy to see the goodness in your soul. Also your career – computer forensic investigator, and the many oher things you do tells me you’re just getting started man.
you’re young enough to be my daughter and i’m a very happily married man with a 12 year old girl and a 10 year old boy…so i feel comfortable telling you that i just noticed another coincidence which blows my mind, but little things are all drama for me as i get older:
our dad’s had the same name. my dad’s middle name is the same name as your home town…just spelled differently. i went to college back east like you (well that’s not such a big ting) but is that stuf cool or what man? to me only? …as i’m suddenly feeling
oh well, c’est le vie Kenya, oui?
Thank you my friend for opening up with your writing because it opened me up.
Warm Regards,
kenya
kenyas last blog post..Lily Tenue (8)
@Kenya, Thanks for reading. You really flatter me, though, as you’re not old enough to be my father. Trust me on that.
I have heard of other guys named Kenya though but have never met one. Also, sometimes I am automatically assumed to be male by my name so there must be more guys around with our name.