Over 90% of women change their names when they get married. Photograph: Mode Images Limited / Alamy/Alamy
Your name is your identity. The reasons women give for changing their names after marrying don't make much sense
Excuse me while I play the cranky feminist for a minute, but I'm
disheartened every time I sign into Facebook and see a list of female
names I don't recognize. You got married, congratulations! But why, in
2013, 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?
On one level, I get it: people are really hard on married women who don't change their names. Ten percent of the American public still thinks that keeping your name means you aren't dedicated to your marriage.
And a full 50% of Americans think you should be legally required to
take your husband's name. Somewhere upwards of 90% of women do change
their names when they get married. I understand, given the social
judgment of a sexist culture, why some women would decide that a name
change is the path of least resistance.
But that's not what you
usually hear. Instead, the defense of the name change is something like,
"We want our family to share a name" or "His last name was better" or
"My last name was just my dad's anyway" – all reasons that make no
sense. If your last name is really your dad's, then no one, including
your dad, has a last name that's actually theirs.
It may be the case that in your marriage, he did have a better last name. But if that's really a gender-neutral
reason for a name change, you'd think that men with unfortunate last
names would change theirs as often as women do. Given that men almost
never change their names upon marriage, either there's something weird
going on where it just so happens that women got all of the bad last
names, or "I changed my name because his is better" is just a convenient
and ultimately unconvincing excuse.
Not that I'm unsympathetic
to the women out there who have difficult or unfortunate last names. My
last name is "Filipovic." People can't spell it or pronounce it, which
is a liability when your job includes writing articles under your
difficult-to-spell last name, and occasionally doing television or radio
hits where the host cannot figure out what to call you.
It's weird, and it's "ethnic," and it makes me way too easily
Google-able. But Jill Filipovic is my name and my identity. Jill Smith
is a different person.
That is fundamentally why I oppose
changing your name (and why I look forward to the wider legalization of
same-sex marriage, which in addition to just being good and right, will
challenge the idea that there are naturally different roles for men and
women within the marital unit). Identities matter, and the words we put
on things are part of how we make them real. There's a power in naming
that feminists
and social justice activists have long highlighted. Putting a word to
the most obvious social dynamics is the first step toward ending
inequality. Words like "sexism" and "racism" make clear that different
treatment based on sex or race is something other than the natural state
of things; the invention of the term "Ms" shed light on the fact that
men simply existed in the world while women were identified based on
their marital status.
Your name is your identity. The term for
you is what situates you in the world. The cultural assumption that
women will change their names upon marriage – the assumption that we'll
even think about it, and be in a position where we make a "choice" of
whether to keep our names or take our husbands' – cannot be without
consequence. Part of how our brains function and make sense of a vast
and confusing universe is by naming and categorizing. When women see our
names as temporary or not really ours, and when we understand that part
of being a woman is subsuming your own identity into our husband's,
that impacts our perception of ourselves and our role in the world. It
lessens the belief that our existence is valuable unto itself, and that
as individuals we are already whole. It disassociates us from ourselves,
and feeds into a female understanding of self as relational – we are
not simply who we are, we are defined by our role as someone's wife or
mother or daughter or sister.
Men rarely define themselves
relationally. And men don't tend to change their names, or even let the
thought cross their mind. Men, too, seem to realize that changing one's
name has personal and professional consequences. In the internet age,
all the work you did under your previous name isn't going to show up in a
Google search. A name change means a new driver's license, passport,
professional documentation, the works. It means someone trying to track
you down – a former client, an old classmate, a co-worker from a few
years back with an opportunity you may be interested in – is going to
have a tough time finding you. It means lost opportunities personally
and professionally.
Of course, there's also power in a name
change. Changing your name if, for example, you change your gender
presentation makes sense – a new, more authentic name to match the new,
more authentic you. But outside of the gender transition context,
marriage has long meant a woman giving up her identity, and along with
it, her basic rights. Under coverture laws, a woman's legal existence
was merged with her husband's: "husband and wife are one,"
and the one was the husband. Married women had no right to own property
or enter into legal contracts. It's only very recently that married
women could get their own credit cards. Marital rape remained legal in
many states through the 1980s. The idea that a woman retains her own
separate identity from her husband, and that a husband doesn't have
virtually unlimited power over a woman he marries, is a very new one.
Fortunately,
feminists succeeded in shifting the law and the culture of marriage.
Today marriages are typically based on love instead of economics. Even
conservative couples who still believe a husband should be the head of
the household have more egalitarian marriages than previous generations,
and are less likely than their parents or grandparents to see things
like domestic violence as a private matter or a normal part family life.
Unfortunately, despite all of these gains, the marital name
change remains. Even the small number of women who do keep their names
after marriage tend to give their children the husband's name. At best
there's hyphenation. That's a fair solution, but after many centuries of
servitude and inequality, allow me to suggest some gender push-back:
Give the kids the woman's last name.
Allow me to suggest an even
stronger push: If it's important to you that your family all share a
last name, make it the wife's. Yes, men, that means taking your wife's
name. Or do what this guy did and
invent a new name with your wife. And women, if the man you're set to
marry extols the virtues of sharing a family name but won't consider
taking yours? Perhaps ask yourself if you should be marrying someone who
thinks your identity is fundamentally inferior to his own.
The
suggestion that men change their names may sound unfair given everything
I just wrote about the value of your name and identity, and the
psychological impact of growing up in a world where your own name for
yourself is impermanent. But men don't grow up with that sense of
psychological impermanence. They don't grow up under the shadow of
several thousand years of gender-based discrimination. So if you'd
rather your family all shared a name, it actually makes much more sense
to make it the woman's. Or we can embrace a modern vision of family
where individuals form social and legal bonds out of love and loyalty,
instead of defining family as a group coalesced under one male
figurehead and a singular name.
At the very least, everyone keeping their own name will make Facebook less confusing.
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