What's in a Name?


By a show of hands, how many of y'all were nicknamed Junebug? 
Ok, how about the ones who changed their name to Unicorn Princess at age eight and wouldn't answer until it was delivered with a bow or curtsey? 

Everybody at some point in their lives had a nickname, preferred name, or dare I introduce a stage name. All, of course, in addition to the name that your Mother and Father gave you. So why is it a problem when we call someone by their "government name," and how do we maneuver in that awkward space if I refuse to call you "Chocolate Droppa," per Kevin Hart's playful alter ego?

Let's talk about it? 
What's in a name? 
Letters, syllables, family history?

Should we feel a way if someone wants to call us by the name on our birth certificate instead of the name we prefer to be called? You sure don't hear the Judge calling out for the bailiff to bring in Young Thug and Gunna because they damn names are Jeffery and Sergio and I double dog dare you to stand up and tell the courtroom otherwise. 

Have you wondered why we don't call Clarisha by her preferred stage name of Yung Miami or why we still call Diddy, Puff Daddy or Sean John Puffy Combs instead of his new preferred moniker of Brother Love?

I believe it's about personal preference and comfortability. Clarisha and Diddy just sound better rolling off your tongue and it clearly sticks. So maybe they should let the audience choose. One amazing artist did just that. He changed his name to a symbol halfway through his illustrious career, so we had to figure out how to call him, instead of what to call him. The media chose to refer to him as "the artist formally known as Prince." As a teen, I never understood why he did that, but I understand it now as an adult. Or maybe it's because I'm dating an artist, who preaches this daily, but we'll talk about that later. 

Prince, whose actual government name is Prince Rogers Nelson, said in an interview with Larry King that he "wanted to make a change and move to a new plateau in life" so changing his name was in a sense, divorcing himself from his past transgressions. 

That's a real reason people, a respectable reason, although in my opinion, choosing a symbol wasn't really user friendly, it's not always about us as the consumer. Which then brings about another understandable version of why we should honor the requests of not just artists, but people with preferred names, is simply because we don't know them like that. Clarisha/Yung Miami said in an Instagram story that she "feels violated" when a stranger walks up to her and calls her real name. "You not my Mama, my Daddy, my auntie, my cousin," she states, so what makes you comfortable with calling me my real name? 

Do you feel that only your close friends and family can call you your government name or are you on the opposing side in saying only your close friends and family call you by your nickname? 

I'm the latter to be honest, but it took my artist significant other to explain to me that an artist's preferred name is not a nickname but more-so the representation or version of themselves that they want to portray to the public as an artist. On a personal level, your birth name connects to your family, your past, therein, your creative name/ artist name/ preferred name connects to your preferred audience, your future and your brand. He explains that "your [preferred] name says a lot about who you are" and where you are, so "you gotta know who you are in this world." 

So yall, I say all that to say: I encourage you all, to re-evaluate your possible, previous opposing stance. Let's respect the wishes of artists/ creatives/ individuals and refer to them only as they present themselves to us. Not only Because I Said So but because Birdman, (real name Bryan Williams, also known as Baby), demands that we "Put some respeck on his name." In a slightly different context, but the point was made, loud and clear. 

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