joan garry

When my partner Eileen was pregnant with our first child, we obsessed about names.  But like a good Jew, Eileen obsessed in a very focused way.  It had to be a name that started with an S after Eileen’s Aunt Sarah.  Eileen never met Sarah.  She died in the camps.  Along with every member of Eileen’s mother’s family.  Sadly there were many deceased relatives to select from but in terms of order, Sarah was next in line.

You’d think this would make it all easier but it didn’t really.  We still bought multiple books (no internet yet), thinking that each new book would have that perfect S name we’d yet to discover.

While we began to orbit around the name Sarah, we also talked about the name Scout.   Yes, as in Finch.  As in the spunky and brave daughter of Atticus Finch.

But we couldn’t go through with it.    At the end, Eileen and I were just too traditional.  (I suppose I should pause here to allow you to absorb the intended irony here).

And besides,  given that Eileen’s mother had told us that if she ever got pregnant, she would slay herself in front of her, we figured we had enough things stacked against us.

So we went with Sarah.

We told this story to Sarah one night when she was about 10.   We thought she’d think it was sweet.  Hardly.  She couldn’t believe we DIDN’T name her Scout.  She loved that name and everything it represented.    Her disbelief turned into a form of agitation.  We encouraged her to add this to her therapy list.  I told her that people always talk about their mothers in therapy and that she was going to be a jackpot customer at some point down the road.

For the next two or three years, she refused to answer to the name Sarah.  At school, at camp and around the house.  It was interesting for us.  A very feisty, spunky thing to do.  Scout-like in fact.

And then the name faded for a few years.  Was it just a coincidence that after the name faded, Sarah embarked on a few rocky years.  Or was it just what happens in high school?  I don’t know.  But during some of the darker days, I hoped she would dig deep and find her inner Scout.  The brave and spunky Scout.

She did.

During the college application process.    I’d like to go away to college as Scout, she told me.

Now I know there may be folks reading this wondering if my daughter has identity issues or multiple personalities.  I assure you she has neither.  First off, if your personality was a big as Scout’s,  you would know that there was no room for another.  And as for identity,  my own sense is that few people I know work harder at understanding themselves than my daughter.

And so it was Scout Opatut who arrived at Emerson College in the fall of 2007.  And except for those moments at the beginning of each semester when her classmates wonder who the hell Sarah is when the professor takes attendance,  she is Scout.  All the time.  Every day.

And so when she informed as that she had done her homework and filled out all the papers for a legal name change,  Eileen and I found ourselves surprisingly OK with it.  I thought maybe Eileen would feel bad that the name Sarah was disappearing (although I did threaten to change MY name to Sarah just to mix things up) but Scout starts with an S and so Eileen was fine.

And so yesterday,  Scout stood before a judge, making the case for the name change.   I .knew she would be asked why she was interested in changing her name and I was really interested to hear what she had to say.  I’ll be honest.  I thought her response would be good material for a blog post.   But the Honorable Donald Goldman didn’t ask.  He assumed.  “So, you like the name ‘Scout’ better than the name “Sarah”, he asked with a certain confusion on his face.  Yes, Your Honor, Soon-to-Be Scout responded.  He then shrugged his shoulders and said (this is true.  He really said this):  “Who am I to judge?”

I could barely contain myself.  I’m thinking that when you take Judgeship 101, there must be a list of statements one should never make from the bench and “Who am I to judge?” would just have to be on that list.

But I have taken the judge’s comment to heart.  No judging.  I guess it falls out this way for me.  Scout is one of those names that just has to fit to be right. Pretty sure that Eileen and I discussed this very thing as we struggled with names.  And if I have learned anything in these past nineteen years, I have learned that our daughter is indeed Scout-like.

And what better evidence is there of brave and spunky than a name change?