Abstract
This article examines how “Black names” have become a trope for deficit beliefs about Black people in the United States and about Blackness more broadly. In data from two qualitative studies conducted with one group of African American secondary students and second group of African American alumni from a historically black college, participants’ narratives of everyday life reflect the impact of racialization and the extent to which members of both groups attempt to circumvent racialization in their personal and professional lives. The authors identify naming as a cultural right that is threatened within the Black community. They use the principle tenets of Critical Race Theory (CRT) alongside discussions of “race” in a sociolinguistic analysis of participants’ discussions of race and naming. The authors take up CRT’s call for narrative as a critical component for revealing and analyzing the significance and impact of race. Findings from the study illustrate that African Americans struggle with naming and the implications for Black names that influence personal choices they make regardless of their age, education level, and socioeconomic status. There is a consequential aspect to Black names that imposes challenges in refracting the deficit constructions of Blackness that are attached to them.
The opportunity for African Americans to name their own children has not been an endowed right. As enslaved people, African Americans’ names and the names of their children were chosen by their owners (Asante, 1991), as there was a clear European colonizing perspective to renaming African and African American people that came out of necessity for colonization (Lake, 2003).
Naming one’s child became a benefit with the dismantling of chattel slavery; and yet, nearly 144 years after the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation, African Americans experience naming their children as an act of “peering from a window” into society rather than “looking into a mirror.” That is, as some African Americans consider names for their children, significant effort is placed on whether the name under consideration will afford them social, cultural, and economic capital (Bourdieu, 2006) or, more profoundly, sociocultural approval mediated by the norms of dominant society. As such, some African Americans’ concern about society’s perception of them (the window) has a significant influence on their choices, so much so that they cast aside linking cultural connections to African identity (the mirror). Skinner and Robinson (1983) associated this struggle with an attempt to divorce one’s ethnic identity because of the deficiencies that have been attached to them. Subsequently, real and perceived negative impact are associated with how names are racially constructed in the United States and how these racial constructions create academic, professional, social, and cultural disadvantages for African Americans (Daniel & Daniel, 1998; DeShawn, 2007; Figolo, 2003; Fryer & Levitt, 2004).
Naming as Racialization
The construction of “Black names” is a dynamic heuristic and has been labeled with a multitude of signifiers, like “unique,” “invented,” or “fictitious” (Bertrand & Mullainathan, 2004; Figolo, 2005; Lieberson & Mikelson, 1995). While these names reflect creative and unique ways of thinking, there remains a looming deficient cultural perspective about them. Unlike names that have national or ethnic origins, Black names are positioned negatively and are often disassociated from intellect and charisma. Mazuri (1986) regards this perspective as the “dis-Africanization” of Africans throughout the diaspora, where the use of color terms, like “Black,” were used to further devalue Africans and African culture, religion, art, and family structures. Some might argue that this dis-Africanization is present in the discourse around the names of African American children today; these names are often assumed to be signifiers of poverty, limited education, and questionable morality (Figolo, 2005). Sellers, Smith, Shelton, Rowley, and Chavous (1998) state, “Although many ethnic groups have experienced discrimination and oppression in the United States, the form of oppression that African Americans have faced is unique” (p. 18). Existing scholarship correlates economic (Bertrand & Mullainathan, 2004) and academic (Anderson-Clark, Green, & Henley, 2008) implications for Black names, acknowledging the existence of consequences that influence daily life for people of African decent. Interestingly, the negative ideas attributed to Black names are not phenomenological but rather a manifestation of the history of “race” and racism in the United States. 1
In 2004, The ABC television news program 20/20 conducted and televised an experiment to determine whether résumés with “White-sounding” names would get the same attention as those with other names (ABC, 2004). This was conducted to publicize to a mainstream audience existing findings from two prominent research studies conducted by Bertrand and Mullainathan (2004) and Fryer and Levitt (2004). The network simplified these existing studies and concluded that résumés with “White-sounding names” were downloaded 3 times more often than the same résumés with non-White-sounding names. In a commentary to ABC’s replicated experiment and as reported in their research, Fryer and Levitt stated, “[There was] no causal impact of having a distinctively Black name to life outcomes” (Fryer & Levitt, 2004, p. 5). The researchers’ conclusion implies that life outcomes (e.g., career opportunities, access to education, marriage) are not necessarily jeopardized, and as such, the discriminatory response to Black names on resumes that is found may not be fatalistic. Furthermore, “the stark differences in naming patterns among Black and Whites is best explained as a consequence of continued racial segregation and inequality, rather than a cause that is perpetuating these factors” (Fryer & Levitt, 2004, p. 6). These conclusions, however, are not holistic representations of the experiences of African Americans and directly suggested that African Americans are unaffected. However, the narratives of African Americans are not included in the data set to determine, first, if and, second, how they are (un)affected.
How does one construct and maintain a positive sense of racial or cultural identity while living in a society that uses “the culture of power” (Delpit, 1988) for structural and social control? This article reveals these complexities that existing research belies because of the absence of the voices and experiences of African Americans who can speak to the identity negotiations made to gain forms of access in the United States. We use two ethnographic methodological approaches to deconstruct how African Americans in two distinct communities discuss naming, as we purport that their sense making of this complex issue brings to fore the lived experiences of consequences and negotiations in important ways. These narrativized experiences add clarity and provide voices to illustrate the complexity of the African American experience. The guiding questions for this work are (a) “Do African Americans think about names and naming in their communities with racialized consequences in mind?” and (b) “Do African Americans seek out alternative naming choices to prevent racialized consequences?” Rather than merely focusing on names as a product of culture or a consequence of limited education and income, this work situates the choices and reasoning given to naming through the dialogues among and within the African American community.
Review of Literature
Research on racialization and naming has been conducted in fields such as sociology, economics, history, and psychology. One of the principled goals in these studies has been to understand what impact naming has on communities or individuals. This literature reviews presents some of those studies we believe are relevant to contextualize our contribution.
Lieberson and Bell (1992) examined the social response to naming through the notion of social taste, meaning that there might be an intrinsic function to taste. The operating question guiding this work was “Are there any internal reasons for each subgroup to select those specific names?” They identified internal reasons as a preference that cannot necessarily be outwardly explained but function within one’s social and cultural community and that influences choices (e.g., taste). Lieberson and Bell found that while names “that are very attractive to whites are more likely to also have at least some attraction for blacks,” the converse does not exist in that “names may be highly important for blacks without influencing the larger, dominant white culture” (Lieberson & Bell, 1992, p. 522). Additionally, they found that invented names are more commonly associated with the dominant culture, which dismantles the assumption that inventing names is reserved to African American, uneducated, or poor families. However, there was not a negative consequence associated with dominant groups’ invented names.
Daniel and Daniel (1998) studied Black and White preschoolers enrolled in Head Start to determine whether preschoolers make behavioral and character attributions to White- and African American–related personal names. “One of our basic concerns is related to the possibility of personal names serving as stimuli for young children to make race-related stereotypical responses” (Daniel & Daniel, 1998, p. 473). Findings for the study are noteworthy, particularly considering the age of the participants and the presence of racial bias according to names. “Although African American children showed little difference in their selection of African American names for positive and negative behavior attributions, White children significantly selected African American names more often for negative than positive behavior attributions” (Daniel & Daniel, 1998, p. 487). The researchers contend that it is plausible for these early categorizations by White children to be reinforced in multiple social outlets and forums because of the pervasiveness of stereotypical and racist images replicated in books, movies, and television along with the influence of individuals. These representations therefore make it plausible for both African American and White children to associate negative behaviors with Blackness or Black names without having any other reasoning.
Figolo (2005) examined the association of Black names with teachers’ expectations in academic achievement. In this work, the focus was on teacher treatment of children based on their names and whether this differential treatment translated into student performance outcomes measured by test scores and referrals to gifted programs. Figolo hypothesized that teachers have low expectations for a student if (a) they are less likely to refer that student to the school’s gifted program and (b) they are more likely to promote the student to the next grade. Figolo concluded that teachers “tend to treat children differently depending on their names, and that these same patterns apparently translate into large differences in test scores” (Figolo, 2005, p. 25). There was consistency found with the idea that expectations for students are often race based and, in this case, masked through how teachers associated students’ abilities because of their names.
Similarly, Anderson-Clark et al. (2008) found that teachers did indeed have more negative expectations for students with “more African American sounding names” in a study that, unlike others, “explicitly separated the race and name variables” using a series of vignettes of the “typical” fifth-grade student. The only variation in the vignettes was the name and race of the student (i.e., White student with White name, Black student with Black name, White student with Black name, and Black student with White name). Anderson-Clark et al. posited,
For the most part, teachers are the arbiters of what counts as success or failure in our schools, and it has been shown that some teachers’ perceptions of children’s behaviors, characteristics, and academic achievements may be systematically associated with stereotypes. (Anderson-Clark et al., 2008, p. 94)
Would the workplace be less biased in hiring practices than teachers’ and schools’ educational processes?
Bertrand and Mullainathan (2004) replicated a U.K. study and directly targeted the question, “When faced with observably similar African-American and White applicants, do [employers] favor the White one?” (p. 991). In an effort to identify ways “race” might be a factor in a potential applicant’s receiving or not receiving a callback, the study “manipulate[d] the perception of race via the name of the fictitious job applicant” (p. 992). In addition to fictitious names, there were other indicators for the résumés that were factors in racializing the applicants, such as residence. Postal addresses were also a consideration for how employers might view applicants and the potential that neighborhood was an indicator of “race.” Results from the study illustrated a “large” racial difference in callback rates. There was a 50% gap between White and Black callbacks; for every 10 résumés White applicants send out, Black applicants send out 15 to get one callback. Bertrand and Mullainathan also concluded that a better-quality resume from an African American applicant that reflects improved credentials does not alleviate employers’ “fears” of deficiency.
There are sociopolitical and sociohistorical contexts in naming for families, which makes the discussion of choosing names as insightful, if not more so, as the choice itself. The articulated experiences of the choices, processes, and considerations are valuable and reveal issues about Black life that would otherwise remain absent. None of the reviewed literature included the voices of those subjugated by the constructions of Black names. The following two studies reveal the complexities for African Americans narrativized in their own words.
Theoretical Framework
This research is framed by the intersection of racialized discourse, sociolinguistic ethnography, and critical race theory (CRT). As Reisigl and Wodak (2001) attest, “the starting point of a discourse-analytical approach to the complex phenomenon of racism is to realize that racism, as a social practice, and as an ideology, manifests itself discursively” (p. 1). We purport that racism in its active and passive forms are organized through and within the complexities of language. As we have argued, the pejorative positioning of Black names reflects a more broad racially orchestrated view of Blackness and, by contrast, the normalcy and dominance of Whiteness. We have also argued that reclaiming the right to give and bear names that are counter to the dominant cultural paradigm refracts Whiteness yet simultaneously jeopardizes African Americans socially, educationally, and economically. We frame this research from a multidimensional approach to broaden how “race” is examined and to situate these African American experiences with greater complexity. Therefore, in order to illustrate African Americans’ ideas and responses to the cultural politics of naming, we examine use of language (Bloome & Clark, 2006) and the discursive context of those communications found in sociolinguistic ethnography (Bloome, 1987; Green & Wallat, 1981). Hymes (1972) called for the development of examining the interaction of language and social life. Within the study, how African Americans use language to construct “race” and dismantle stereotypes of “race” simultaneously is a function of how language use is deliberate and reflects how communities make sense of their own racial experiences (Carter, 2006). How speech communities develop in part reflects an understanding of the social world(s) in which they live. Our work examines the social reality of racism and how it interacts with African Americans, as a speech community, as they deconstruct naming as both a process and a product.
We also use the tenets of CRT to frame the context by which Black names are posited in a racialized economy. The tenets of CRT are that (a) racism is normal in American society (Delgado, 1995); (b) storytelling or the integration of experiential knowledge is important to developing an analytical framework (Matsuda, 1995), (3) a critique of liberalism and the notion associated with the civil rights movement of incrementalism is “flawed” (Crenshaw, 1988), and (4) civil rights laws continue to serve the interests of Whites (Ladson-Billings, 1999).
As Whiteness continues to be propagated as normal and, in some cases, ideal, power and disempowerment are the result not merely of individualized choices but of societal structures (Bonilla-Silva & Lewis, 1999; A. F. Brown, 2008; A. F. Brown & White, 2010; T. Brown & Cornfield, 2008; Omi & Winant, 1994). CRT outlines the structural connections to everyday life, which is an important factor for illustrating the experiential aspects of African American identity. While CRT is not about naming directly, how African Americans discuss naming, the rights, privileges, and challenges to naming reflect the principle structure of CRT, which we use methodologically as well for the analysis.
We recognize that there are multiple paradigms for examining naming (i.e., cultural identity, social identity, group membership); however, in an effort to illuminate how “race” acts as an observable force in the decision making for African American people, we use theoretical perspectives that illustrate the permeability of racism, even in the actions and thought processes of African American secondary students and college-educated African Americans. Neither of these groups is removed from the realities and challenges that come with racism, manifested in naming, and they both recognize the consequential nature of names beyond their individualized choices.
Method
Do African Americans think about names and naming in their communities with racialized consequences in mind? Do African Americans seek out alternative naming choices to prevent racialized consequences? This research reflects data from two qualitative research studies that used two different ethnographic approaches to deconstruct how African Americans discuss “race.” The first study was grounded in the traditions of ethnography, where describing, analyzing, and interpreting the patterns of a culture-sharing group (Creswell, 2008) were the focus in an educational setting. As ethnography is an in-depth study of a community, ethnographic research looks to understand a community in relationship to culture or cultures (Emerson, Fretz, & Shaw, 2001). The second study was grounded in an ethnomethodology called “netography,” described as an adapted approach of ethnography applied to online communities (Kozinets, 2002, p. 3). Initially used as a research method to investigate consumer behavior, the principles of netography that are particularly relevant for this research was how “communities are formed through computer-mediated communications” (Beckmann & Langer, 2005). We also used netography as a methodological heuristic, in that Brown’s membership and participation in the online community provided access to dialogues about “race.” 2
Description of the Study
The first study was conducted with African American secondary students (SS) at a predominantly African American high school in the southern portion of the United States. These data stem from a larger ongoing project on discussions of “race” within school settings. The initial line of inquiry questioned how “race” was constituted in schools and, in particular, through classroom discourse. Research methods included field noting, audiotaping and videotaping of classroom instruction, interviews with teachers and students, recorded focus groups, and collecting artifacts.
The second study was conducted with African American alumni (AAA) from a historically Black university located in the southern portion of the United States who participate in an online alumni community. The study examined discussions of “race” among African American postbaccalaureate students in an online community. The research question guiding this inquiry was “In what contexts do African American graduates of a Historically Black university discuss ‘race’ in an online community?” Research methods used for this study were field noting, organizing and documenting the frequency of responses to various forums and discussions in the web community, and collecting artifacts from community members that were posted about their present careers, family structure, and socioeconomic status growing up and presently.
Data Collection Methods
The data represented by the SS are from an interview from a case study of two African American high school seniors, Kevin and Thessely, from the larger data set. They were both members of a 12th-grade British Literature class where Brown was a participant observer for 5 months collecting data for a larger microethnographic research study. They were selected to participate in the research study as a result of their involvement or “silence” (Carter, 2006) during classroom discussions. This group interview lasted for 20 minutes and was conducted in the school library during lunchtime.
The data represented by the AAA stem from a focus group convened online after one community member posted a false legal case about Black women’s losing the right to name their children (http://thepeoplesnewsonline.com/2008/03/02/federal-judge-enough-with-the-stupid-names/). The fictitious article was titled “Judge Rules Black Women Can No Longer Name Their Children.” The AAA community consisted of 4,655 members during the time of the study. Once this topic was posted in a forum in March of 2008, it generated 112 responses from 28 participants through July of 2008. The response to this false case spurned a dialogue that addressed several issues related to racialization through naming, the status quo, class, social mobility, and the double standard of being Black and, in some cases, Black and female. Unlike the research study conducted with the SS, Brown’s role in the AAA research study was to monitor the types of the discussions that were happening in this community as a participant observer.
The discussions were coded to identify common themes used between the SS and AAA and how these themes reflected the tenets of CRT. This approach for qualitative coding was used, as CRT regards everyday life and narrative as key to contextualizing how “race” and racism are lived and not solely orchestrated events to which society must respond. We used these tenets as an organizational structure to discuss the findings for the data.
First, we present data from the interview with the SS and an analysis of that discussion. Next, we share several comments made in the online discussion from AAA members and discuss how these issues reveal the concerns and dilemmas Blacks perceive as a result of Black names. We conclude with a discussion of the larger social and cultural implications to encourage an intraracial analysis of the costs of negotiating cultural and racial identity within the culture of the United States.
Findings
Data collected and analyzed from the two research studies identify how storytelling allows the participants to reveal their experiences related to racialization and naming. In some cases, the participants discuss the experiences of people they know (Shuman, 2005). In other experiences, they name their own experiences in complex ways, some of which reflect how some African Americans have accommodated racism. Gaye (2000) writes, “Narratives encompass both the modes of thought and texts of discourse that give shape to the realities they convey” (p. 2). CRT foregrounds its movement within storytelling because it is often these untold stories that reframe, redefine, or challenge the often accepted and unquestioned lenses that society positions as reality. Dixson and Rousseau (2006) describe CRT as a scholarship that offers a challenge “to the stories of the majority”(p. 4). In examining the impact of Black names, there are several stories collected from the data sets that are telling about how both groups see the role of racialization and naming in their lives.
Our Stories of Black Names
Transcript 1 From Interview with SS
Folks have to name they own child. Whatever your name come out to be . . . sometime I want to change mine.
To what?
Any thang but Kevin.
Bob.
It’s too many of us in my family already. So I don’t like it.
Really?
(shaking his head no) I like my middle name.
What’s your middle name?
Dion.
Dion. So just go by your middle name.
(Shaking his head no) Can’t go by your middle name.
Why?
’Cause it’s unprofessional, like . . . (short pause)
(interrupting Kevin) How is Dion unprofessional?
It’s Black.
Excerpt From AAA Focus Group
I used to be disappointed I couldn’t find the little kiddy stuff that has your name imprinted on it with my first name . . . I thought about that when I named my daughter.
That totally had an impact on me naming my children Charles and Kate.
In the transcript, Kevin states that he “can’t” use his middle name although he prefers it to his first name. He correlates his first name to being “unprofessional” and then concludes that it is unprofessional because “it’s Black.” We can presume that Kevin believes that because he perceives Dion to be a Black name or associated with Blackness more broadly; it is therefore a hindrance. It is not determined in the dialogue how or why Kevin believes these limitations, but the articulation that his first and middle names are insufficient for his personal goals and the racialized associations he ascribes to them is enough for him to make alternative considerations. Interestingly, Thessely seemingly connects with Kevin’s rationale, as she inserts an alternative name, Bob, that would be constituted as “White.” From a microanalysis, there is a shared notion of professionalism that is constituted through naming and has racial implications expressed by the two students.
AAA 1 presents the disappointment of not being able to buy off-the-shelf novelty items in the stores because her name was usually not one of the common names. The uncommon nature of AAA 1’s name or, conversely, its uniqueness informs her choice in naming her daughter. Both of these comments, although offered by participants from vastly different age ranges, recognize the implications of having names that are not mainstream. To a greater extent, their narratives reveal a consequence for having a Black name, be it employability, perception of professionalism, or participating in store purchases. The idea of feeling marginalized resonates as an imposition and results in the choices they make for themselves (Kevin) and their children (AAA 1 and AAA 4).
Wow, I was believing this! As a school nurse, I was yet excited. It is rather embarrassing to watch these preschoolers attempt to spell their name or correct others on the pronounciation . . . The little ones are tired of defending their names all day long . . .
AAA 10’s narrative is in part her own as well as the narrative she presumes to belong to the preschoolers. She first locates school as a difficult place for children with Black names and for her role as an authority watching these events take place. Her posting first expresses that because of being privy to watching preschoolers “attempt” to spell their names or “correct” others, she was excited about the judge’s ruling. She does not discuss the ethical dilemma of the law mandating whether and how Black women can name their children, yet she accepts and supports the idea because of what she constitutes as “embarrassing.” In order to justify her position, she uses a moral claim to rationalize her position. She is a health care provider who witnesses some of a caustic culture being imposed upon the innocence of preschoolers. Within her narrative, she uses powerful language nearly to advocate for children who are without a voice: “The little ones are tired of defending their names all day long.” The two stories intertwined within this posting illustrate what is complex about both Black names and the ideas that suggest they are problematic socially; children have no choices and live embarrassed and in defense of their names.
Black Accommodation Within Naming Reality
Delgado (1989) offers three principles in CRT for naming one’s reality. They are as follows:
(1) Much of reality is socially constructed; (2) Stories provide members of our groups a vehicle for psychic self-preservation; and (3) The exchange of stories from teller to listener can help overcome the ethnocentrism and dysconscious conviction of viewing the world in one way. (p. 96)
The participants in the studies name their realities and the dynamic relationships they have with Black names as both ideologically conflicting and challenging for their own life choices. The challenge, however, in naming their realities and recognizing the multidimensionality of racism is that they also accommodate those realities. Even as the participants articulate the tensions between identity and society, they simultaneously illustrate their own participation and acquiescence within these tensions. The following statements were made within the AAA focus group but are not chronologically ordered.
Here is the problem that I see. We are already born handicap in America by being African American. Why would we handicap our children even more with names like I just mentioned?
So, maybe there is a time and place for the usage of certain names just like you may walk and talk differently at work, you may be called something different at work as well. I’m not saying that I agree but the world we live in may require that . . .
Giving children names that sound complicated but has no significant meaning will cause problems for those children down the road. Doing that automatically associated your child to a poor, ghetto environment.
I was offended and relieved at the same time! I hate when some mom names her kid something crazy and then gets an attitude when you mispronounced it.
These comments represent the varying degree to which members of the AAA group struggle with how they see names that have been constituted as “Black” and how they might function in the dominant culture. AAA 4 suggests dual naming as a way to retain a professional identity as well as a connection to community. This idea was reflected in the Lieberson and Mikelson (1995) research that discussed data collected on the Gullah Sea Island communities that actively sought to retain an African identity by enacting dual names, one for family and “one for white folk.” AAA 8 and AAA 6 reflect ideological challenges in the notion that there is a “handicap” imposed on children with “crazy names” that is added to the preexisting “handicap” of being African American. These comments reveal how among the group, there is not an explicit positive connection made between being Black and a Black name. Black names are situated as contributing to a deficient social position and negative social interactions that are aligned to being disabled. AAA 6 encapsulates this idea in the expression of hate when “some mom names her kid something crazy [emphasis ours] and then gets an attitude when you mispronounce it.” What is not clear is the source of her “hate.” Is it the name itself or the possible belief that the name affects the greater Black community because of its contribution to a negative perception of Black people? The strength of AAA 6’s word choice is telling of the perceived collective accountability for individual choices.
Recognizing the Flaws of Civil Rights
One important aspect of CRT is its critique of liberal notions of neutrality, objectivity, colorblindness, and meritocracy often associated as championed concepts of the civil rights movement (Dixson & Rousseau, 2006). Despite the civil rights movement’s attempt to galvanize equality by identifying biological notions of race as inconsequential, the outcome of that effort was an attempt to ignore race altogether. Colorblindness is a manifestation of what happens when “race” is ignored in order to accomplish equality. While CRT honors the historical suffrage, labor, and milestones that were the direct result of the civil rights movement, it posits an importance to critique systems that allow privileges to be justified as merit or neutral advancements when everything about systems in the United States is based on racial preferences, among others. To this end, the participants reveal in frank ways how they participate in or think about the impact of the objective illusion that dominates the discussion of social mobility in achievement.
SS Transcript 2
Umm hmm. What do you think racism is?
I think racism could be a lot of different things. You can be racist in a lot of ways. I mean it can be implied racism. Say if I’m—it doesn’t necessarily have to deal with color, let’s say if I be like, class or social status. Just say you’re so “think you’re so high class” (shifts tone and enunciation) and you’re always lookin’ down on me (folds her arms and looks over her right shoulder), “Oh, Gosh, I’m not going to sit next to Thessely,” (said in a different tone) “look at her shoes.” You can act toward a person just because you think they don’t have money. Or it could be about skin color. Be like “Oh my gosh I hate White people, I hate Black people, I hate Asian people”—you know just the way you treat a person nose turned up to people and then. I think racism can go sort of into like getting a job. Maybe in the really upper class White society—you know. (Kevin nods)
I really haven’t experienced it but this is what I think—’cause you know let’s say, ’cause I saw on the news that the names—let’s say your name is Laquinisha and Susan. You have the same criteria (holding her hands parallel to one another as if forming a boundary on the table), same experience, same degrees and everything. Susan gonna get the job.
Because of the name.
But basically I mean not to categorize or anything but we basically know that’s a Black person’s name just by lookin’ at it. Ninety percent of Black people mostly have names like that. White people mostly have names like that even though there is probably some Black girl name Jennifer, which can be White or Black—you know just by the names, I guess the names tell them basically “OK, we know we’re not gonna pick her.” How you know uuhhh Laquinisha can’t do the job way better than she can even though you have the same type of experience.
Excerpts From AAA Focus Group
I agree about African names but European and Chinese people are still getting jobs with their names and we are not. African names on African American people are just not accepted.
White employers typically associate Africans with having a strong work ethic, with being smart, and with not having any of the “baggage” the Black Americans have concerning holding white people accountable for slavery and Jim Crow.
. . . I look at resumes and applications and if I can’t pronounce the name . . . the qualifications have to be over and above for me to offer an interview. That is real!
. . . but I think we have to look at the attitude of those teaching the Laquesiala’s as well. Just as some of the posts suggests, many have a serious problem right off the bat when they hear a name like that. Do we make the same sigh of grief when Lucas James Whiteman is in your class? Do you treat them both the same? I’m sure you say you do, but I bet I could prove you wrong. If Lucas had a problem with a 2+2, most wouldn’t have a problem helping him, but let poor little Bonequeeshala have the same problem and we’d be like . . . “Damn, you stupid, why did yo’ mama name you that?”
I totally agree with you. I worked for a temporary agency and they totally skipped by names that were difficult to pronounce. That totally had an impact on me naming my children Charles and Kate.
Thessely’s scenario and analysis in the SS Transcript 2 about access to employment between “Susan” and “Laquinisha” corresponds to Kevin’s feelings that names are a perception-based indicator of professionalism or a lack thereof—the more “Black sounding” the name, the less likely you will get the job. Thessely’s news reference is to the ABC News broadcast based on the Bertrand and Mullainathan (2004) study. Concurrently, her reference to the news item publicly reinforces what she already knows from experience as an African American—to be labeled as Black is a negative and a hindrance—a historical understanding of the culture of power. She acknowledges that despite post–civil rights claims to colorblindness, institutional racism persists via name association.
AAA 4 reflects African Americans’ continued struggle to “own” themselves and their ethnicity as a privilege enjoyed by other ethnic groups. This speaks to the “uniqueness” of oppression for African Americans unlike other non-Whites (Sellers et al., 1998). AAA 2 and AAA 7 revisit the subject of how African Americans have been portrayed in the hegemonic imagination since slavery (i.e., lazy, dumb, dishonest, etc.). Even where there is recognition that these false assumptions are a result of racism, it suggests a suspicion that the resulting attitudes of African Americans will be those of anger, militancy, or a need for retribution; all are undesirable traits and create “risks” for employability. AAA 7 extends the discussion to how students might be regarded in school and teachers’ willingness to support learning or not because of their belief about students because of their names. While hypothetical, AAA 7 expresses the findings from Figolo’s (2003, 2005) research.
AAA 4 and AAA 6 reveal intracultural racism among African Americans. Many would argue that one of the strengths of slavery in the United States was its ability to divide African Americans. Within the institution, the “field nigger”–“house nigger” dichotomy referred to the fact that those who worked within the slave master’s house benefitted from a higher social status than those who worked in the field (Stewart, 1983). Working conditions between the two groups were in opposition to one another, and the privilege of directly “serving” the master afforded “house niggers” social and cultural capital. AAA 4 and AAA 6 reflect, in part, the privilege of access to power directly or the witnessing of the enactment of power that can be associated with passive racism. AAA 4 admits to not considering résumés if the names could not be pronounced. AAA 4 states that she has witnessed applicants being passed up through a discriminatory sorting process, where she is silent. These comments highlight how the views of the dominant culture have inculcated three generations of post–civil rights African Americans. AAA 4 and AAA 6 have gained access to employment, power, and position, but their roles have not necessarily changed the perception of African Americans as a whole. Even more so, their comments reflect their partial roles in contributing to perceptions by not challenging decisions made or making decisions themselves that affect other people. The narratives propagate the racist ideologies of the larger culture and emphasize the intersection of race and class, a relationship seldom addressed during the civil rights movement, buttressing the concept of meritocracy.
Racism is Endemic: The Hidden Movement for Change
Identifying racism as endemic and a normal composite of life in the United States is a challenging notion. Within the following excerpts, the participants unveil their understanding of racism while they simultaneously propose ways to combat it. Critical in their awareness is how participants use naming as a springboard to other communal issues that might be germane to Black people.
Yet, where do we take a stand? Do we stop sending our children to [historically Black colleges and universities] like [James University] b/c that’s a very good indicator that your child is probably black [on the resume]? . . . This is why we need “black faces in white places” as well. So that we can “sound the alarm” when we see such unjust practices. I’ve always been involved with recruiting efforts for every company that I’ve worked for so that I could make sure that we got some black faces in the door.
Based on your comments, a reasonable person might infer that “our culture” and “handicap in America” are strongly related. The more WE continue to pass that notion down, the more it becomes embodied in “our culture,” affecting behavior, decision making, dialect, childrens’ names, etc.
I think we have or will fail as parents if we don’t leave our children better off than our parents left us. That may be a hard pill to swallow, but just look at our condition . . . My great greats were slaves, my grands had land and did farming, my parents got jobs and worked for someone else for 30 years. If my child HAS to do tomorrow what my parents had to do 50 years before that, I think I’m to blame. Of course, they have their own minds and can do what they choose, but we must have better options for them.
AAA 2 and AAA 9 understand that in this supposedly “postracial” culture, all things are still not equal and concurrently pose the same questions. 3 “For the people that know better, what do we do?” “Do we go along, in order to get along, and at what price?” Both acknowledge that some type of stance must be taken, but should it be at the expense of African American culture? Do we forfeit “our” culture (our colleges, names, language, etc.) in order to gain a foothold in the larger culture? The solutions that each suggests, however, are rooted in two different sociohistorical paradigms.
In this “postracial society,” it has been deemed that there is no longer a need for affirmative action laws and, by suggestion, historically Black colleges and universities. In a post–affirmative action era, then, how do we get people in there? The establishment of new laws was a subset of the civil rights movement; civil rights laws stated, “We’re here to bring justice and protect the interest of minorities.” Naming discrimination, though subtle, goes against the whole purpose of the civil rights laws. AAA 2 asserts that there is a need for “black faces in white places . . . so that we can sound the alarm.” African Americans within institutions become the gatekeepers: “What the laws no longer do, we will do.”
AAA 9’s response again raises the concept of self-determination. It suggests that even when race works against us, we must keep moving ahead as if it does not. On the surface, this idea would seem a very positive and empowering strategy, one employed by African Americans since the end of slavery. It affirms that there is no shame in being African American and at the same times suggests that being so is not problematic in America. It advocates that African Americans should refuse to acknowledge a connection between “our culture” and its being a “handicap in America.” This ideology would align itself with the model-minority paradigm—and suggests, “If they (other non-Whites) can do it, why can’t you people?” Laws, courts, politicians have all recognized that African Americans have a different history in this country than any other group. To not “pass down this notion” would seem to negate that there is a fundamental difference between Blacks and all other minorities in this country.
AAA 7 begins to shift the discussion within this movement for change to address family and accountability within each family. Portions of the comments are sociohistorical (slavery, sharecropping, and tenant farming) but also raise issues of work ethic, making provisions, and establishing a legacy irrespective of dominant society. The notion that failure within families are less about society but possibly about parents positioning their children to “do better” or “be better” than the previous generation raises accountability. It is not clear whether AAA 7 is aligning this ethic with naming and social mobility or with simply making decisions within the family more broadly. In any case, the movement for which AAA 7 advocates relates to mobility within families.
What Is a “Good” Name?
There was also a point in the AAA focus group where participants began to wrestle with the notion of constituting identity through naming as an act of empowerment or reclamation. As they challenged one another to think about racialization as having a social and economic value, meaning that jobs are gained or lost, there were prompts within the conversation that suggested that there is power among African Americans that must be reclaimed. Within the focus group, there were discussions between members that became personal and illustrated how participants did not see themselves and their own names a part of these tensions. Or participants did not want to include themselves within the statements they made about others, “placing themselves within their own words.” The following excerpts reflect a dialogue between two participants where identity and reclamation are personal and illustrates this tension.
I think many of our names have no real meaning. Most of us are named after our former slavemasters, first name included. I agree that naming our children Nickel, Mercedes, Endo, Gin and Juice is crazy, but Amy, Jill, and other “white” names are just as meaningless. I believe that it says in the Bible that a Good name is a good as Gold. So maybe that’s what we were thinking when we name our children Platinum and Diamond.
What names should be considered “good” names?
I’m sure at one point DeMarco, Zarin, Iolantha were considered questionable . . . even ghetto. If enough people are named Nacirfa or Ebenezer, wouldn’t it become just as normal as a Grady or a Garrett?
This is response to [AAA 7’s] comment. Well actually Zarin is not a ghetto name it isn’t even a name that is very popular. In my lifetime I have met 2 Zarin’s most people think it is pronounced Sharon b/c that is much more popular, and when I correct them white, black, and other they always say that is very pretty. If I am not mistaken when I researched it many many years ago it was hebrew, german or something to that effect but not ghetto!!!
. . . A good name should be something that has some type of meaning, can be easily pronounced, and something the child doesn’t have to fight everyday in school to protect.
. . . I was saying that any name, whether you or anyone else considers it ghetto, could become just as common as a Terrance or Paul if there were enough of them. Nowadays, Tameka is a name you may even find in a low-income white community. I predict Tameka will be like Lisa in the next 75 years. Like you said, there aren’t many Zandras around, hence, one could believe that it is ghetttttto.
First, AAA 7 identified the double standard that had been held against African Americans, where “meaningless names” had been constituted by the group as deficient. AAA 7 illustrates how dominant names, like Jill or Lisa, even if derivatives of another name, have no meaning within themselves, yet they are accepted and normalized. The biblical reference used challenged the group to consider a higher order of thinking about humanity rather than locating goodness within the constructs of society. To solidify the example, AAA 7 uses the names of several focus group participants to make the point. The response from AAA 5 we believe illustrates the “othering” work that had been done within the focus group, as many of the participants within the discussion have names with “alternative spellings” or reflect unique or uncommon names. AAA 5 responds to her name being referenced, and despite the descriptions earlier within the focus group of what constituted “crazy” or “ghetto” names because of their uniqueness, AAA 5 is offended that the construct includes her despite her own perception. Social identity theory would explain this as a relativistic positioning of self-and-other categorization (Reisigl et al., 2001), where one sees oneself more favorably than one is seen by others, even when one is a member of the same group. The dialogue between AAA 7 and AAA 5 reveals how perception of self and community shifts when one is challenged to see how one is connected to community even if only hypothetically AAA 7 creates those challenges to which AAA 5 responds. Interestingly, as AAA 7 expounds and clarifies on the idea that what is uncommon can become common, the example of the name Tameka being found among Whites is provided. AAA 7 states, “Nowadays, Tameka is a name you may even find in a low-income white community. I predict Tameka will be like Lisa in the next 75 years.” In order to illustrate the possible move toward commonality for the name Tameka, AAA 7 creates a racialized and class intersection by suggesting that a low-income White person might have the name. This is an important discursive moment, because even as AAA 7 works to counter the deficit paradigm of Black names, it is reinscribed when it is then assigned to a low-income White rather than simply a White person of unspecified socioeconomic status.
Discussion
Black names have become a trope for deficit beliefs about intelligence, productivity, socioeconomic status, and in some cases, the morality of Black people. And despite the common articulation among Whites of a belief in equality or the absence of racism, research continues to reflect the prevalence of passive racism in broader society. These discussions represent how African Americans question how to balance the heritages and traditions of creativity while avoiding pejorative racialized characteristics that are inescapably associated with being Black. We do not argue that this is unique to the “Black experience”; naming discrimination with immigrant communities is also a salient feature in the Americanization narrative (Neckerman, 2007). However, the legacy of the pathology of Blackness is older than the existence of the United States of America itself, and the consequences of Blackness are diabolical. This research brings these discussions to the fore so that future research and analysis might consider other factors for naming without reducing the experiences of Black people to economic or educational outcomes.
In an effort to capitalize on the promises of equality and opportunity that defined the civil rights movement, African Americans who live in a post–civil rights era identify how Black names create newly complicated ways to be denied access, opportunity, and equality in American society. There is an existing paradox for African Americans who are challenged with creating and sustaining a positive racial identity. Despite their academic experiences and access to education, both the African American SS and the AAA struggle with how to balance a positive racial identity while addressing what they both constitute as a social reality. Part of the choice, as articulated in the data, is to make an exchange of one’s cultural right to gain access.
We regard this exchange as “selling the farm to buy the cow.” The willingness for African Americans to sell what they own (identity) in order to buy a smaller piece of capital in American society is, in economic turns, a risky investment. Avoiding Black names does not necessarily yield a return in an endemically racist and racially organized society. “Selling the cow” is in part a critique of the reactionary stance some African Americans have taken to address ways they might be able to counteract the paradigms of racism and White privilege by actively choosing racially neutral or White-sounding names. The metaphor also extends to those Blacks who serve as gatekeepers and have concerns that a person with a Black name might disrupt their own perceived identity and thus act to limit the opportunities of holders of Black names. In both cases, identity is being auctioned off in the interest of appealing to mainstream society. Akbar (2005) reminds us that White privilege is “a set of options, opportunities, and opinions that are gained at the expense of non-white people.” This research might help us generate new questions about “race” and the options, opportunities, and opinions that Blacks continue to see as limited in their life choices despite time and education. How do we preserve our farms?
Naming children is a familial and cultural right. Names are a distinguishable marker Black mothers and fathers place on their children that, for some, are unlike the names that frame the dominant culture. These names, so often characterized as “ghetto” or ridiculous, are in some ways symbolic. Insofar as they represent the creativity of a people who are willing to counter the culture of naming in Western society, they too remind us that one’s first name is given to you by one’s loved ones, unlike one’s last name, which is inherited from a legacy of indentured servitude and psychological abuse. Naming becomes a conscious choice that reflects an intention to identify a child ethnically, culturally, creatively, or not at all. These Black names are nominal counterconstructions of the mainstream, despite the fact that they have become situated as phonetic and phonemic errors or acts of irresponsibility and ignorance. In all cases, for Black families, naming is the opportunity for those without privilege to own something. How we associate this level of creativity with ethics, productivity, and acceptance requires a more in-depth analysis of the intersections of “race,” class, and ideology and how the consequences for naming remain uncontested. Germane to exposing these consequences is divulging how value and “appropriateness” have been ascribed to Whiteness, and despite non-Whites’ gaining access to opportunities resultant from social, legal, and political struggle, their sociocultural choices remained measured by rules of Whiteness.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.