There are identity-related decisions that we’re not even aware of because we have not been socially “allowed” to make them. Think about all of the traditional rules around being a man: protect, provide, be strong, silent, and emotionless. For people of the past, it was unthinkable to consider men as anything else. With the modern reshaping of the masculine mould, men are experiencing the freedom to express themselves through their clothing and style and forge their own identities, including their own names.
Most modern men turn away from the intense control that the old boy’s school had over everyone and everything. That tradition is crumbling and humanity is thriving in diversity, equality, and respect. We’re in an awesome period of gender advancement and people are making their own rules, choosing their own roles, and creating their own identities.
As we continue to question and deconstruct, our choices become wider and we have the opportunity to make significant changes to our lives and our selves, including what we’re called. For example, I always wondered why I didn’t get my mum’s last name instead of my dad’s. Women had much more to do with the children than men did, so why were we labelled with the dad’s identity? It didn’t make sense to me, even as a child.
I got into a conversation with myself about names, thinking that there are no true female last names unless the woman chooses one herself. Traditionally, she’s born and given a man’s name (her father’s), and if she marries, she takes the name of her husband, and symbolically leaves her own heritage and blood line, and takes on a foreign one. There was no choice — the equivalent of a cattle brand; ownership seared in. It’s a modern concept that a woman can create her own identity by choosing to change her name to what she pleases. Our name is linked to our identity and we should be free to choose our own. Men included.
Jill Filipovic, in The Guardian, wonders why, in the modern age, “does getting married mean giving up the most basic marker of your identity? And if family unity is so important, why don’t men ever change their names?”
A good question that I’ve asked myself. Then I read this:
William MacAskill, in Why men should change their name when they get married, says that he and his fiance together chose MacAskill, her grandmother’s maiden name, to take as their married name. Why? He wanted to go with a name that sounded better and was cooler than his birth surname, “Crouch”. It wasn’t about tradition, it wasn’t about gender assumption or emasculation, MacAskill changed his name out of aesthetic.
It’s no surprise that MacAskill shocks people when he tells them his intention. The news meets with reactions of “raised eyebrows, confusion, or aggressive questioning”. The concept of a man changing his name is probably an alien concept and outside most people’s consciousness (indeed, sacrilegious to some). MacAskill mentions that no one reacted when his fiance said she was changing her name, which reminded me of my parent’s reaction to my name change: Well, she’d change it when she got married anyway.
The irony is that I haven’t been married. I changed my last name 13 years ago because I wanted to and I had a choice to. I never liked my father’s harsh-sounding Austrian last name; it felt like an ill-fitting cloak that I couldn’t take off. Instead, I chose to associate with my mother’s Irish side and went with a softer sounding name. It was largely aesthetic for me but also very liberating because I had the choice. It also feels so much better.
It’s a wonderful time in social history where people can keep pushing for change, for balance, for betterment. No matter what gender we self-identify with, we have the choice to decide on who we want to be and how we want to be known according to our own rules. It’s a blessing. In this modern world that unravels the colossal knots of exclusive patriarchal rule, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, and even better if choose it yourself.