My favorite parenting magazine, Brain, Child, just came in the mail, which means lots of articles to share with you.
This issue’s debate has set off many a discussion here and will no doubt solicit the magazine tons of mail, good and bad: “Does a Family Need to Share a Surname?”
The two moms, by the way, are freelance writers in New Zealand. Momma No. 1, Laura Williamson, says no and even gave her son her last name rather than her husband’s:
For one thing, the assumption that a mother, a father, and their children should have the same surname is almost always underwritten by a second assumption: that the shared surname should be the father’s. It’s the male’s prerogative.
Late in my pregnancy this thought really started to irk me. There I was, belly distended, ankles inflated, avoiding aioli and red wine while my blood mingled with the blood of the child inside me. I could not be more connected to another being, yet I was supposed to sever our genealogical ties the minute the umbilical cord was cut. It was unfair.
But what about your husband, you ask. Didn’t he get a say? He did, and he agreed with me. It was a brave decision; he must have known that he was condemning himself to a lifetime of beer-induced ribbing from other men. He also must have known that he was in for decades of confused looks at the dentist’s office, immigration checkpoints, and PTA meetings….
That my child’s father was willing to let go of his name made me feel closer to him then, and continues to make me proud. What could be better for our family?
New Zealand writer No. 2, Liz Breslin, argued in favor of adopting one family name — the father’s:
It’s true that passing on the father’s name gives precedence to the paternal line, but is that really a bad thing? Children need fathers, research says. It also shows that masculinity is being shoved to the sidelines in the family. I’m grateful (albeit in a staunchly feminist way) that my significant other cares so much. Let’s celebrate dads and families. I don’t want to use my family to make a political point.
Why is having a public, shared name so important? Ask the clans in Scotland or the small-towners with streets named after them. Living, working, warring together promotes a sense of unity. And this is what it’s really about: a collective family identity. Christmas cards come to our house addressed to us, to the family. The simplicity of this is poignant. We are exclusively, inclusively us.
Of course, our shared name is only a symbol of our togetherness. What makes us a family are the shared time, meals, songs, traditions, and customs. These come from our histories and the futures we’re creating. We have schnitzel nights like my fiance’s family did; we celebrate name days the way my Polish grandmother does; we’ve started our very own tradition of going for an early morning Christmas Day swim no matter what the weather.
We could do all that with separate names, but what are the implications? How strange would it be if, for example, my daughter took my last name and my son took his father’s? Or vice versa? What message would that give our children about our family unit? To me it would set up exclusions: My daughter’s mine. Our son is yours. Names have the power to unite or divide. And I want my family united.
The authors touched upon a subject even I have not been able to express: Choosing a name other than the father’s is a political land mine. Besides confusion with bureaucracy, I can’t tell you how many brows I have raised and comments like “she is one of those” by merely keeping my last name. Our children, by the way, have two last names: Moulitsas Batista.
But it works for our family. At first glance, “The Moulitsas-Batista Family” may be a mouthful, but after years of receiving greeting cards with that salutation, it has blended in the background. It’s us. Even my mother-in-law has come around, giving us a hand-made wooden welcome sign for our front door, reading “Familia Moulitsas Batista.”
Of course, I am not “one of those” — if by that you mean I am militant about my choice. I recognize it is only a name. If my children grow up to choose one name over the other — or take their spouse’s last name — I will not be offended. Ultimately, as Breslin pointed out, the time we have spent together is what counts not whether we shared a last name.
What say you, MotherTalkers? I am particularly curious if any of your husbands have adopted your last name or if your children have different last names — for example, your daughter has your last name and your son has his father’s last name. As progressive as I am, I have never met anyone with these names. Please do share!
Considering MIL is around to remind me I am “soft” in the middle, I did NOT need to