The Virtues of Virtue Names

At least one baby name trend has been popular for, well, ever: virtue names. A little “Gracie” will never be ostracized because of her name, nor will “Hope” or “Faith.”Some of the more uncommon virtue names, such as “Honor,” “Charity,” “Mercy,” and “Justice” may cause someone to take pause, but generally they are considered acceptable and worthy. Today I am musing about how virtue babies get their names- can you look at a baby girl and know that she is full of grace? Can you tell that a little “Hope” is not going to be a pessimist? Or, do you give a baby a virtue name as a prayer? If his name is “Justice,” maybe as a kid he’ll always share with his siblings and he’ll grow up to be a lawyer. Maybe “Joy” will delight people everywhere she goes and radiate God’s love through her demeanor.

But what if the opposite is true? What if “Grace” is a boor, and “Honor” is rebellious? I (seriously) knew a girl named “Chastity” in high school. Yes, the meaning is noble, but what a moniker to slap a kid with! And no, by all appearances she did not live up to her name- it was kind of an irony, unfortunately. On the other hand, my parents named me Brittany Joy because they were so thrilled to have a daughter and knew I would bring them great joy. I tell you, in my moments of adolescent angst when I was making their lives miserable, it would stick in my mind that I was supposed to be their Joy, and it was pretty convicting.

In general I’m a fan of virtue names (except perhaps “Chastity”), especially for middle names. So often there is a story behind them (I wonder how many “Hopes” were born on September 11, 2001?), and they represent a parent’s most fervent wishes for his or her child. I think that if the parents continually tell their children the story of their names, and pray the names over them and claim them for their family, the virtue can indeed become a part of them; even if it doesn’t come naturally, it can be their life long quest to achieve it. Therefore, there’s little risk of ending up with a cruel “Justice” or a contentious “Harmony.”

          What do you think about virtue names? Do you have one? Plan to use one?

Cross-Culture Name Theft

I was fifteen when I spent my first month in Peru. Everything in the country is alluring, from the mist-shrouded peaks of the Andes to the grimy streets of Lima. I will never forget that summer- the music, the kids, the smells. And the names. There's something enthralling about Spanish names, a bit of grit and romance in the trilled Rs and pure vowel sounds. I fell hard for the name Milagros. Milagros was one of our translators. She was beautiful and smart and kind, and she made an effort to befriend the loud but earnest American teenagers. We all thought she was amazing, and I added "Milagros" (me-LAH-gros) to the very top of my name list. I still think it is one of the most beautiful names in the world, but there will probably never be a little "Mila Bowen" running around, simply because our babies will tend towards whiteness and I don't want their names to confuse people.

I've noticed, however, that more and more in the past years, language is limiting less and less the names parents are considering for their babies. I know several Caucasians so enamored with foreign language names that they're shrugging their shoulders at any potential raised eyebrows and naming their kids Nikolai and Diego. Oh Diego. Is there any name more heroic and romantic than Diego, said in a low, accented voice? Apparently others agree with me, because I've heard of several little white baby Diegos, just by word of mouth. More power to them.

What do you think? Are culture and language irrelevant as far as names go? Do you have a favorite foreign name that you're trying to win your spouse over to?

Aurora Whitney

You may be wondering something. I understand why. How did I, a woman so keenly aware of the weight of the burden of choice, who revels in the responsibility and gives names with gusto but never haste, decide on a name for my daughter? Especially with a husband who claimed equal say (not entirely unreasonably) in the matter?

Well, actually it was pretty easy. We do subscribe to the “see the baby before you decide on a name” thought; since babies all look pretty similar to us, it just doesn’t seem like getting a look at a wrinkly red face would provide too much insight (we may be wrong). So, long before we were engaged we got married we became pregnant we found out the gender, we had her name selected. 

As far as middle names go, I really wanted our first to be named after his or her dad, and “Whitney” happens to be my beloved’s middle name. I fell in love with “Aurora” in high school, and my zeal never waned. No, she’s not named after the northern lights, though we’d rather attribute it to the aurora borealis than to Sleeping Beauty (who names their kid after a Disney princess anyway?). We consider it a bit unusual without being bizarre, and it allows for the adorable nickname “Rory,” which we use quite a bit (“Aurora” is very feminine where as “Rory” is a little more cute and playful). Also, if Rory ends up having an “R” speech impairment, she can introduce herself as “Awowa” or “Wowy” which will be hilarious, as long as she outgrows it eventually. Finally, in Latin and all Latin-based languages, Aurora means “the dawn,” and it’s a fairly common name in Spanish (“Brittany” does not translate AT ALL so I wanted to allow for the fact that our baby girl may want to learn another language one day, and it would be nice if speakers of the language could pronounce her name).

Really that’s all there is to Rory’s name story: there was a name, we liked it, it has nicknames, and it translates to Spanish. And sure enough, she came out (neither wrinkled nor red) and wouldja know it- she looked just like an Aurora.

Aurora and her daddy, just born

Rory at seven months