My Name (Grammar B)
“Don’t do it Rachel!”
That was not the response I was expecting. I called my mom for support, and when she was not doing a good job, I asked for my dad, the nicest person in my family: number one. That’s what we call him—we have arranged our family in order of niceness, one being the nicest, six the meanest (I am number five, in case you were wondering). I was expecting to hear, “You can do this, Rachel. We support you. This is a good thing.” But no. My dad decides to go along with my mom and be funny right at the moment when I need seriousness.
Of course my dad was surprised when I started crying—I should have been laughing. I knew that in my head, but I also had a lot of other things going through my mind: William Wallace, Scottish knight and war hero, Anselan O Kyan, fleeing to Scotland after defending his Irish home from Danish conquerors, “Clarior Hinc Honos,” family motto, family crest, family plaid, pioneers bravely crossing the planes, my father wearing his army uniform. My family heritage. Those are the things that come with the name Buchanan. My name.
That name is my identity. Rachel Lynn Buchanan. That is who I have been for twenty-one years. That is me. That name just fits. It flows so beautifully in perfect trochaic trimeter with the RachelLynn blending together, connected by the “l” sound at the end of Rachel and the beginning of Lynn. RachelLynn. I’ve always loved the way that sounded. It’s just so cute and girly. And then Buchanan. There’s something about that name—the three syllables perhaps?—that says this is a special name. Or it could be the fact that I love my connection with my family, and not just my family history.
As I mentioned before, my father is in the army, which means that my family moves a lot. Through every move and every change, every new school, neighborhood, and ward, from Arizona to West Virginia to Maryland to Texas to Japan back to Maryland to El Paso then San Antonio on to Virginia and finally Washington—through everything, I have always had a place to belong. With my family. No matter where we went, I was always a Buchanan, always a part of their circle, always an important member of their group. That was my place, and even though I didn’t have a home in the sense of one specific house or one specific hometown, my home was with my family. I always believed my family was special and I felt so lucky to be part of it.
These are the things I was thinking about when my dad picked up the phone. This is why it was so hard for me to make the change on my own. This is why it was so hard for me to make a decision. I didn’t want to give up any of those things.
Finally understanding my tears, my father said, “Rachel, you are not losing anything. You are still part of our family, and your heritage is not going to change.” My mom took back the phone and reminded me of my grandmother, Helen Elizabeth, my soul clone, and her father, Frederick Arthur Hall, the schoolteacher and poet, his father, Heinrich Hahl, who came over from Germany with his wife Sophie, and the house that their sons built in Wheeling, West Virginia. I felt a particular closeness to my grandmother and great-grandfather at that moment because of the change I was making. I felt that they would like the German name.
Finally I thought about Justin, my wonderful husband who does so much for me every day, the man that I promised to give my life to and spend my life with, the reason I was going through all this in the first place. I thought of his family, his sweet sisters, his wonderful parents, and the way that they accepted me into their family and offered me their love. I remembered the weekend Justin and I went to visit them in El Paso—the weekend we got engaged. I thought about all the reasons I married him and all the reasons I am so glad I did. I thought about spending the rest of my life with him and about putting him first, choosing him over everyone else, leaving my parents and making him my family. My husband, my sweetheart. I am entirely devoted to him. My name can also symbolize that devotion.
Then I decided. Rachel Lynn Bauer.