What's in a name?

This week I have been thinking about names. Most people who know me know that I have a weird hang-up about names--particularly first names. I changed my name when I was nine (from my given name Amanda to my middle name Elizabeth) and it was an essential, defining moment in my life; one that finally allowed me to be comfortable with my identity.

So it seems like a little funny to me now that of all the adjustments I had to make when I first married, changing my last name was the most difficult aspect of all. I had fought to be me--Liz Hayman--and for so long that I honestly didn't anticipate how hard it would be to adopt a whole new last name. And now, four and a half years later, I'm starting to feel comfortable as Liz Malone. Except for one thing.

Malone is obviously a very Irish name which is great for my Irish husband, but most people seem to assume that I must be Irish too. (Which I'm not....to the best of my knowledge.)

See, you infer many things about a person based on their last name. We make judgments, assumptions, even prejudicial decisions based on the origin of a person's family name. But Malone, while a fabulous name with a rich history, does not express who I am.

Though, honestly, Hayman doesn't really either.

See, Hayman is a wonderfully English name bestowed upon my family by the stepfather of my paternal great-grandfather. When his mother remarried, my great-grandfather was adopted by his stepfather--Joseph Hayman. My last name really should have been Cheiffetz, a good Jewish name for my Jewish ancestors. It doesn't represent the Millers (my Grandpa Hayman's maternal line) who were of German descent but immigrated to America from Latvia (then a part of Russia).

Nor does it account for my Grandma Hayman, formerly a Leavitt, whose surname came from a deviation of Lovat, a part of Clan Fraser from Scotland. Or that she was a fifth-generation Mormon whose ancestor, on her mother's side, was Peninah Cotton Wood, one of the first Native Americans to be baptized into the faith, and the first to enter into a plural marriage.

And it totally ignores my maternal line. It doesn't tell you anything about my great-grandmother, Anna Barbara Lakta who immigrated from Poland when she was nineteen years old with only her niece Veronica, and who worked as a Harvey Girl in Chicago for many years. It says nothing of her husband, Albert George Urbanik, another Polish Catholic immigrant, who worked on the trains in Gary, Indiana.

It misses my maternal grandmother's line, from another long stock of pioneer converts to the Church, who came to Utah from Denmark and other European countries, to live their religion in a desert land.

No, Malone does not adequately identify who I am....but then again, neither does Hayman, I guess. But is there really a last name out there that would convey to you that I'm just a little bit English, Scottish, German/Russian Jew, Polish Catholic, Scandinavian, with a little side helping of Native American?

So, in other words, just your typical, good old American mutt.

And in that case, any name should work just fine. Even an Irish one. ;)