DAY 33 - Back to the Drawing Board, What's in a Name?

 

"What's in a name?"

So opined Shakespeare’s Juliet, a Capulet, as she considers her love for Romeo (a Montague), a love forbidden by their families’ long-standing feud. In the play, Juliet concludes that Romeo’s surname is insignificant in comparison to the person who wears it. His last name could be anything and it would not matter to her. She’d still love him.

That Shakespeare’s line actually came to mind as I was writing this is kind of weird to me. I haven’t read any Shakespeare since high school! But having been brought to mind, let me explain.

This drawing and article were intended for posting on St. Patrick’s Day (happy belated, by the way). For reasons already covered in my previous post, Reality Check, they didn’t get done in time. I originally targeted March 17th because a good part of me is actually Irish. 

My father, Jay Kester Carmen, was born in 1921. He was the son of Alva and Grace Carmen, a family of both Irish and German descent. They moved to northern Ohio from South Bend, Indiana when my father was a boy.

My mother’s family was (I believe) Irish and Scottish. They moved to Akron, Ohio, from West Virginia, but I’ve no idea when. It may have been before she was born (1935) or it may have been later.

I was born in 1957 and named after Dad. But the family name hasn’t always been Carmen. The unverified story has it that a couple of generations prior to Dad’s birth there was a falling out of some kind. One branch of the family tree decided to change its surname. While we are now called Carmen we were once called Carmean.

But this wasn’t the first time the name changed. When the “Carmen” family came over from Cork County, Ireland, in the 1600’s they came over under the clan name Ó Cuimin. In the five centuries since, there have been numerous spellings, misspellings, and phonetic reinterpretations of the name: Ó Cuimin, Ó Cromyne, Cuimin, Cruimin, Crimine, Cremeen, Cromer, Cromean, Carmain, Carmean — just to name a few. 

The clan families in Ireland provided sons as priests for the church right up until at least the Reformation. Ironic, considering I worked in ministry for several years. And there are remains of two family castles still standing in Ballinascarthy and Enniskeane. Maybe this explains some of my fascination with castles. It’s in my blood!

Anyway, here in the United States, I have been blessed with a few happy encounters with some of my more distant relatives.

Back in the late 90s, I was teaching a mid-week Bible study. One night after the study a young married couple approached me. Though I could not have guessed from their last name, they knew my family genealogy because they were included in it. Then, not more than ten years ago, I met a family here in the town where I live with the very same last name. Turned out he was a cousin a couple of times removed.

With all this in mind, I have decided that I both agree and disagree with Juliet (s’cuse me, Shakespeare).

I agree that one’s name or surname says nothing about who one is. That is decided by how one behaves and what one does. However, there is a sense in which a name does have importance. A name carries the family history forward, even if that history is unknown to the one who bears it. 

Today’s name bearer - that’s you, me, the neighbor, the coworker - creates today, through words and deeds, tomorrow’s history.

So, “What’s in a name?” The answer: nothing and something; history, legacy, and the future.

(NOTE: This drawing was created entirely in digital.)