What’s in a Name? Cursing and Blessing
Have you ever wanted to change your name? Maybe you have opted for a nickname, a middle name, or even an entirely new name. I come from a family of name changers. Both my mom and dad went by their middle names; my brother became “Duke” because he wore a sweatshirt from that NC institution even while attending school in NJ. I myself have responded to nicknames like Kay, KK, and even Katydid. But, my current interest in name change reflects events outside my family circle.
My mom chose my first name “Karen” to reflect her one-quarter Danish blood. Mom first thought of naming a future daughter “Karen” after she read the Marie Killilea’s two biographies about her daughter: Karen and With Love from Karen. These books told of Karen Killilea’s cerebral palsy and how the entire Killilea family worked to create a normal life for their daughter in an age when she could have been institutionalized. For Mom, the name “Karen” became associated with resilience and surprising success.
My mother was certainly not unique, because in the 1950’s and 60’s, “Karen” was one of the top ten names for girls born in the United States. Then slowly “Karen” drifted into relative obscurity. Now In 2021, the name “Karen” has fallen farther (#831 for girls, its lowest rank since 1927). But ranking isn’t the issue: labeling is. According to the Urban Dictionary, “Karen” is not a name: it is a pejorative label. A “Karen” is an entitled, demanding white woman who uses her privilege to achieve her desires at the expense of others. (The dictionary adds that “Karen’s” are also blond, middle aged, non-working, invasive, drivers of SUVs or minivans, book club gossips, and sport-ers of Walmart sneakers.) While I am on Medicare (ie. beyond middle age), brunette, working, drive a Honda Civic, don’t belong to a book club, and wear Amazon-purchased running shoes, I know that I am still judged as “a Karen” and found wanting.
The situation is not improving either. Currently Netflix is advertising a thriller starring Taryn Manning and entitled (wait for it) “Karen.” I bear a disreputable name. So where does all this anti-Karen hysteria leave me? I am, momentarily frustrated, and have had to deal with that. But mostly I am grateful, and for the following three reasons:
· Because of this anti-Karen craze, I have experienced just a bit of the embarrassment and shame others have felt for years when they have been judged wanting because of their name, their appearance, their gender, or their age. I am grateful for perspective and empathy.
· I am grateful because God has reminded me that, since I am in Christ, He has changed many of my former ugly (and true) names. I am no longer His enemy (Romans 5:10), a slave to sin (John 8:34), or dead in my transgressions (Ephesians 2:1), to name just a few.
· I am grateful because God has promised me a new name based on my new identity as a Christ-follower: “He who has an ear, let him hear . . . To him who overcomes, to him I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone, and a new name written on the stone which no one knows but he who receives it” (Rev. 2:17).
At present I am Karen: stereotyped by some, but accepted by the One. I am Karen: flawed, but also forgiven. God calls this Karen his daughter—because of her faith in Christ alone and in spite of her age, race, possessions, or activities. As God’s daughter, I am also his disciple, ambassador, friend, and fellow laborer. The difference means everything to me, and it lies in the Namer.
