In a clearly-written entry at the Huffington Post entitled Why I'm Not Changing My Last Name for Marriage, "Reflective Bride" explains why she isn't changing her surname for marriage. The dubiously patriarchal background to the practice of women taking their husbands' surnames is one reason, but not the main reason; the main reason is that she feels attached to her name is "my name is my identity." She is not changing her name, above all, because "I just don't believe in changing one's identity for marriage." She juxtaposes this conviction with her friends' rejoinder that having the same last name is "nice." I want to spell out reflectively what might lay behind her unreflective friends' sense of "niceness."
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/reflective-bride/why-im-not-changing-my-la_b_5172581.html?fb_action_ids=712621948784595&fb_action_types=og.likes
While I agree with several points in her article, whether or not a woman or man do change their names when they marry, I think this reason reflects a misunderstanding of what marriage is. In short, you cannot marry without altering your identity, whether you change your name or not--and if you are not willing to be altered, you are not really getting married. Stephen Sondheim has a wonderful song about marriage without personal alteration in his show Company, entitled "Marry Me a Little."
Marry me a little
Love me just enough
Pure and clear and easy
Just the simple stuff
Keep a tender distance
So we'll both be free
That's the way it ought to be.
This doesn't work out too well for the protagonist, and he comes to a more realistic understanding later:
Somebody need me too much.
Somebody know me too well.
Somebody pull me up short,
And put me through hell,
And give me support,
For being alive.
Make me alive.
Make me alive.
But saying that marriage requires personal sacrifice isn't the same as saying it requires sacrificing one's identity. Women aren't "chattel property" after all. And even Sondheim's lyrics don't get at the heart of what's really happening in marriage, because the horizon still seems to be of marriage as an interaction of individuals, when in fact the essential dimension of marriage is the formation of family.
Consider Reflective Bride's definition of a wedding (and this is from a woman who is a wedding blogger): weddings "bring together family and friends, celebrate your love, and are an excuse for an awesome party." But weddings don't just "celebrate your love," although they do that. They celebrate the formation of a new nuclear family, which then carries with it various relationships to existing maternal and paternal family members. Fathers and mothers "don't so much lose a daughter as gain a son" (and vice versa). Weddings anticipate or bless the existence of grandchildren who will belong to both family lines.
In more traditional societies, what I'm referring to as "formation of family," was rather more like "the continuation of family." In patriarchal societies, this would mean the wife leaving her father's house and joining her husband's father's house. Each "nuclear" family unit was less like a start-up firm and more like a subsidiary of a larger firm that might, perhaps, rise to be the governing force of the larger family, but otherwise perpetually remained beneath it. I know there were also matriarchal and matrilineal societies and many variations, all of which I have forgotten if I had ever read about them. But it seems safe to say that the nuclear family as a mostly independent entity is historically unusual, and thus we cannot speak of the "traditional" family except insofar as we "receive" that tradition, preserving its best traits while casting a critical eye towards what came before.
The subjugation of women in this tradition deserves such a critical eye, so I think Reflective Bride is right to challenge men to ask, "Why wouldn't you change your name?" If a man can't reflect on the tradition enough to have a reason he expects his wife to change her surname--while he would never consider changing his--then he can hardly answer the challenge of sexism. What I am arguing is that forming a new nuclear family is the creation of a unity to which each of the partners needs to learn to subjugate their own individual identities (although only to a certain extent) for the good of the whole.
Thus, even if the "maiden name" assumption is challenged, the problem still remains: how do you take two disparate people and forge a single unit--the family, that is, the nuclear family. Or rather, how do you recognize that this is what you are doing when you marry? A common and very fitting way to recognize this union is the assumption of a single surname.
It would almost seem fitting, in the era of nuclear familialism, to come up with an entirely new name just for these two people and any offspring they beget or adopt. But I've never heard of anyone actually doing this in part because modern kinship ties, though weaker than ever, still count.
Indeed, the personal identity we carry in our surnames is generally built upon our family history, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer. This is because our "personal identity" is never merely individual, but always comes from somewhere and points somewhere. Reflective Bride acknowledges that the name she wants to keep is "her father's name," but simply says that this unchosen origin of her name is now irrelevant because "that's who I see myself as." But if we acknowledge that in fact, our surname is familial, that is represents that part of ourselves which (unlike a first name or middle name or nickname) belongs to others, then changing it is simply an acknowledgment of a new belonging that has to come first, ahead of other belongings. I suggest that this sense of unity, of belongingness, is what is so "nice" for her friends about taking their husbands' surname. We are no longer merely you and me, we are also we.
In my own experience, this use of surnames is very much in evidence. We talk all the time about the Richardsons or the Flaherties, and my wife and I get called jointly by our surnames all the time. Never is this taken to mean, "Mr. Richardson and his chattel," still less, "the slaves or possessions of Patriarch Thurber." It allows these families to be seen linguistically as what they are--units. So much so that with marriages who did not take the same surname we tend to mash them up into funny shipping titles ala "Bennifer."
This doesn't make the traditional presumption of taking the patrilineal name any more equal, and so, as Reflective Bride observes, there are a number of more or less satisfying solutions that are tried, mostly involving hyphenation. For anyone who cannot stand this historical inequality, or who has compelling reasons not to take their spouse's name (such as professional name-branding, or any of the other hypotheses lobbed at the Reflective Bride as to why she is keeping her inherited surname), the need for a single surname is not overwhelmingly compelling. But it is sufficiently fitting that we should not bat an eyelash that the presumption is for a name change, whether or not it is "old-fashioned."
Also, cultural expectations shouldn't be completely ignored--if everyone is driving on the right side of the road, it's what people expect. A family with one son may be hurt if he "abandons" the family name, whereas the "surprised" family whose daughter and her children keep their family name may not have invested as much in the possibility. Whereas following tradition generally garners a shrug, breaking it may be seen as a personal slight.
My personal opinion is that men and women looking at marriage should weigh all of these considerations, and that men should look at taking their wives' names or hyphenating their name and having the kids bear their wives' surnames. And then men and women should look at retaining a name professionally while using the family surname in their private lives. By "all of these considerations," they could be wide-ranging and include many things Reflective Bride mentions--being much closer to one side of the family or another, the reactions of extended family, how the names sound together, weeding out particular unfortunate surnames, and the like. The safest route, if taking the husband's surname is problematic, may be for the wife to keep her surname rather than doing something unusual that might offend the family. In my own case, had I taken my wife's surname, I would have had the same name as a rather notorious politician.
None of this means that the woman (or man) should be subsumed into the other. Unlike the practice of referring collectively to the "Coxes," the practice of calling a woman Mrs. John Smith--of subsuming her identity entirely--could be confined to irrelevance; I think it already sounds merely old-fashioned anyway. In any case, I am unaware of any contemporary women who have literally given up their first and middle or any other names, so that the couple became referred to as "Kevin and Mrs. Kevin." That's because the taking of a surname only touches part of one's identity, while the most personal of portion of our identity--the first-name basis--remains wholly our own.
To begin to wrap up, my argument could be said to break apart on the grounds that postmodern families are "blended" and thus already past the nuclear familialism I have presupposed, and that the notion of the nuclear family as a "unit" or a "whole" is "old-fashioned." I will respond that, in the absence of the notion of a common good that is larger than either spouse, sacrifice and benefit become a zero-sum game between the spouses, such that the best that can be achieved is a constant attempt to be fair and equal. Should this mutually beneficial arrangement break down, such as when one spouse suffers illness or injury and can't "pay their fair share," even a relatively good marriage itself may break down with it. A marriage, on the other hand, that has become "we" (without subsuming either I, but acknowledging that each's identity has been changed in important ways) can instead hope all things, believe all things, love all things, and endure all things. Surnames don't accomplish all this, of course, or even very much of it, and a family of many different surnames and personalities can certainly become a unit. But, I'll use that word again--having the same surname is fitting to it.
In conclusion, Reflective Bride notes at the beginning of her article that marriage "doesn't feel any different" for her. I have to say that my experience was completely the opposite, and not just because of the old-fashioned mores respected by my wife and I, which kept us from living together and other intimacies. I knew that my life had changed, even though my name had not changed, because this woman had entrusted her life--even her name--to me, and that she was my responsibility as much as I became hers. For as long as we both shall live, my identity is forever changed, and I have no hopes (or fears) of recovering "who I am" apart from her, but rather walk side-by-side with her towards my destiny through the concrete sacrifices of the family life we live together.
But saying that marriage requires personal sacrifice isn't the same as saying it requires sacrificing one's identity. Women aren't "chattel property" after all. And even Sondheim's lyrics don't get at the heart of what's really happening in marriage, because the horizon still seems to be of marriage as an interaction of individuals, when in fact the essential dimension of marriage is the formation of family.
Consider Reflective Bride's definition of a wedding (and this is from a woman who is a wedding blogger): weddings "bring together family and friends, celebrate your love, and are an excuse for an awesome party." But weddings don't just "celebrate your love," although they do that. They celebrate the formation of a new nuclear family, which then carries with it various relationships to existing maternal and paternal family members. Fathers and mothers "don't so much lose a daughter as gain a son" (and vice versa). Weddings anticipate or bless the existence of grandchildren who will belong to both family lines.
In more traditional societies, what I'm referring to as "formation of family," was rather more like "the continuation of family." In patriarchal societies, this would mean the wife leaving her father's house and joining her husband's father's house. Each "nuclear" family unit was less like a start-up firm and more like a subsidiary of a larger firm that might, perhaps, rise to be the governing force of the larger family, but otherwise perpetually remained beneath it. I know there were also matriarchal and matrilineal societies and many variations, all of which I have forgotten if I had ever read about them. But it seems safe to say that the nuclear family as a mostly independent entity is historically unusual, and thus we cannot speak of the "traditional" family except insofar as we "receive" that tradition, preserving its best traits while casting a critical eye towards what came before.
The subjugation of women in this tradition deserves such a critical eye, so I think Reflective Bride is right to challenge men to ask, "Why wouldn't you change your name?" If a man can't reflect on the tradition enough to have a reason he expects his wife to change her surname--while he would never consider changing his--then he can hardly answer the challenge of sexism. What I am arguing is that forming a new nuclear family is the creation of a unity to which each of the partners needs to learn to subjugate their own individual identities (although only to a certain extent) for the good of the whole.
Thus, even if the "maiden name" assumption is challenged, the problem still remains: how do you take two disparate people and forge a single unit--the family, that is, the nuclear family. Or rather, how do you recognize that this is what you are doing when you marry? A common and very fitting way to recognize this union is the assumption of a single surname.
It would almost seem fitting, in the era of nuclear familialism, to come up with an entirely new name just for these two people and any offspring they beget or adopt. But I've never heard of anyone actually doing this in part because modern kinship ties, though weaker than ever, still count.
Indeed, the personal identity we carry in our surnames is generally built upon our family history, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer. This is because our "personal identity" is never merely individual, but always comes from somewhere and points somewhere. Reflective Bride acknowledges that the name she wants to keep is "her father's name," but simply says that this unchosen origin of her name is now irrelevant because "that's who I see myself as." But if we acknowledge that in fact, our surname is familial, that is represents that part of ourselves which (unlike a first name or middle name or nickname) belongs to others, then changing it is simply an acknowledgment of a new belonging that has to come first, ahead of other belongings. I suggest that this sense of unity, of belongingness, is what is so "nice" for her friends about taking their husbands' surname. We are no longer merely you and me, we are also we.
In my own experience, this use of surnames is very much in evidence. We talk all the time about the Richardsons or the Flaherties, and my wife and I get called jointly by our surnames all the time. Never is this taken to mean, "Mr. Richardson and his chattel," still less, "the slaves or possessions of Patriarch Thurber." It allows these families to be seen linguistically as what they are--units. So much so that with marriages who did not take the same surname we tend to mash them up into funny shipping titles ala "Bennifer."
This doesn't make the traditional presumption of taking the patrilineal name any more equal, and so, as Reflective Bride observes, there are a number of more or less satisfying solutions that are tried, mostly involving hyphenation. For anyone who cannot stand this historical inequality, or who has compelling reasons not to take their spouse's name (such as professional name-branding, or any of the other hypotheses lobbed at the Reflective Bride as to why she is keeping her inherited surname), the need for a single surname is not overwhelmingly compelling. But it is sufficiently fitting that we should not bat an eyelash that the presumption is for a name change, whether or not it is "old-fashioned."
Also, cultural expectations shouldn't be completely ignored--if everyone is driving on the right side of the road, it's what people expect. A family with one son may be hurt if he "abandons" the family name, whereas the "surprised" family whose daughter and her children keep their family name may not have invested as much in the possibility. Whereas following tradition generally garners a shrug, breaking it may be seen as a personal slight.
My personal opinion is that men and women looking at marriage should weigh all of these considerations, and that men should look at taking their wives' names or hyphenating their name and having the kids bear their wives' surnames. And then men and women should look at retaining a name professionally while using the family surname in their private lives. By "all of these considerations," they could be wide-ranging and include many things Reflective Bride mentions--being much closer to one side of the family or another, the reactions of extended family, how the names sound together, weeding out particular unfortunate surnames, and the like. The safest route, if taking the husband's surname is problematic, may be for the wife to keep her surname rather than doing something unusual that might offend the family. In my own case, had I taken my wife's surname, I would have had the same name as a rather notorious politician.
None of this means that the woman (or man) should be subsumed into the other. Unlike the practice of referring collectively to the "Coxes," the practice of calling a woman Mrs. John Smith--of subsuming her identity entirely--could be confined to irrelevance; I think it already sounds merely old-fashioned anyway. In any case, I am unaware of any contemporary women who have literally given up their first and middle or any other names, so that the couple became referred to as "Kevin and Mrs. Kevin." That's because the taking of a surname only touches part of one's identity, while the most personal of portion of our identity--the first-name basis--remains wholly our own.
To begin to wrap up, my argument could be said to break apart on the grounds that postmodern families are "blended" and thus already past the nuclear familialism I have presupposed, and that the notion of the nuclear family as a "unit" or a "whole" is "old-fashioned." I will respond that, in the absence of the notion of a common good that is larger than either spouse, sacrifice and benefit become a zero-sum game between the spouses, such that the best that can be achieved is a constant attempt to be fair and equal. Should this mutually beneficial arrangement break down, such as when one spouse suffers illness or injury and can't "pay their fair share," even a relatively good marriage itself may break down with it. A marriage, on the other hand, that has become "we" (without subsuming either I, but acknowledging that each's identity has been changed in important ways) can instead hope all things, believe all things, love all things, and endure all things. Surnames don't accomplish all this, of course, or even very much of it, and a family of many different surnames and personalities can certainly become a unit. But, I'll use that word again--having the same surname is fitting to it.
In conclusion, Reflective Bride notes at the beginning of her article that marriage "doesn't feel any different" for her. I have to say that my experience was completely the opposite, and not just because of the old-fashioned mores respected by my wife and I, which kept us from living together and other intimacies. I knew that my life had changed, even though my name had not changed, because this woman had entrusted her life--even her name--to me, and that she was my responsibility as much as I became hers. For as long as we both shall live, my identity is forever changed, and I have no hopes (or fears) of recovering "who I am" apart from her, but rather walk side-by-side with her towards my destiny through the concrete sacrifices of the family life we live together.
No comments:
Post a Comment