“My name is EbonyJanice. I go by EbonyJanice. Which means you should call me EbonyJanice.” EbonyJanice
I have always been shy. Although people can equate shyness and quietness with being an introvert, I personally don’t think they have to be tied together. In my case though…they are. I grew up terrified to be seen or heard by others. And so, I remember the first time I was put on the spot by a new teacher:
Robert. Hmm.
Why don’t we call you Bob or Bobby?
Doesn’t that sound nice?
It didn’t sound nice at all. No offense but a young Black boy being called Bob was not my idea of a good time. How could I refuse though? I acquiesced to my teacher and that began a lifelong struggle with allowing myself to be named and defined by others. While my family affectionately called me Rob, I was stuck outside of my home being called whatever people desired. RJ. Bobby. Bob. Whatever. As I grew, being defined went beyond my name as people were assertive with what they perceived of me. Many proudly boasted that they didn’t see me as Black. With joy they would tell me that I talked and acted white. My love of fantasy, reading, and imagining made me white also.
“The power of a name is an affirmation of one’s worthiness…It is powerful work to insist that you say my name correctly.” EbonyJanice
In these years, I have worked diligently to discover who I am, desperate to know myself so completely that the labels of others fall off of me. I demand that you call me by my name. I demand that you understand me as I am and not what you THINK I am. I’m also evolving every day so the man that I am today may not be the man that you knew a week ago. I’m proud of that. Allow me to tell you that I am:
nerdy
brilliant
soft
a musician
a dreamer
a lover
a poet
my father’s child
big hearted
a crybaby
a lover of God
obsessed with chips
and cookies
and pizza
a lover of Lucille Clifton’s work.
These are parts of me that I adore. My hope is that you pause long enough each week to define yourself. What is your name?1 Trying to find out someone’s name, who they are in the inward parts, is a beautiful part of developing relationships. Platonic and otherwise. Below is an old post that was for paid members that I want to make public to further my conversation about who I am.
I reference EbonyJanice’s book All the Black Girls Are Activists a lot because it is a phenomenal book and her chapter on “In Pursuit of My Name” is so pertinent to this conversation.
Names carry so much power and I strongly believe in choosing a name that fits you best. I never liked my birth name Tyler and often was called Taylor or misgendered. I felt so much more like me when I started going by my middle name Carrington then legally changed it to my first after marriage. It makes my skin crawl to be called Tyler and makes my dimples deep when someone tells me Carrington is a beautiful name. Names matter! Thank you for writing always 🫶🏾
Phew. Growing up as an ESL student I remember allowing teachers and people call me Josephine and spell my name wrong all the time. I got to a place where I started writing Josephine/Josephina on paper. I remember getting home one day, and having my mom tell me that is not my name.
As I continue getting to know me, and removing the names others have placed on me, I'm finding myself. A tender hearted, cry baby, God loving, platano lover, who just wants others to know that they can take up space & be themselves.
Thank you for this beautiful read Robert.