Shakespeare?

I'm getting this one in under the wire. Though in my defense, I spent most of the day being productive elsewhere--my paper came together nicely, I studied up on Spanish, and managed to do some laundry. On the whole, a fairly successful weekend.

I was thinking (inspired by John Green's Q&A blog today) about names. Though I agree that it seems odd, if not downright dangerous to choose their own name, I wonder about how much letting others name us lets others define us. Do you ever meet, let's say, a Candy and think to yourself "That's such a Candy?" Or a Bertha or a Linda? Or find yourself thinking that a person doesn't look like their name?

There are all sorts of stereotypes associated with names. Smart names. Ditzy. Snobby. Old-fashioned. Successful. Think for a second and you can come up with a name you associate with each of those categories.

For example, when I searched my own name, Leah, I came up with "Wholesome, Natural, Refined." (If you want to try your own name, go to http://www.behindthename.com/rating/) At another site, people ranked Leah as an Environmental Activist, a Cheerleader, or a Poet. (Once again, go to http://www.namenerds.com/cgi-bin/career.cgi?mode=view)

But the worst part is that these stereotypes play out into life. Applicants with traditional-sounding names are more likely to get called back for a job interview than those with "African-American names." Girls with very "feminine" names are less likely to pursue math or science-related careers. The suicide rate is higher for people with "strange" names than more standard ones.

These stereotypes lead to expectations of someone, which affects that person's self-image and changes their behavior. So, are we actually hurting children by choosing their names for them? Perhaps it's better to take the Native American route, and pick a name once we have our own definable characteristics. (Incidentally, there's a great book by Joan Bauer called Hope Was Here that's very much about this sort of fitting-into-a-name deal.)

And yet, I like the name Leah. I think it fits me, whether I'm wholesome and refined or not. Maybe I grew to fit the name, or maybe it grew to fit me. I don't know.

Of course, I still think I'd make a good Zoe.