The name of my first son adhered to a family tradition that many Black families embrace: a unique spelling that starts with the same letter, a nod to our heritage. His name, Kaleb, draws inspiration from biblical roots—a common practice in our culture, regardless of religious beliefs. However, for my second son, born a decade later, I decided to break from tradition entirely.
“I’m going with Theo,” I announced to my friends during a pottery painting event, despite the discomfort of the hard chair beneath me and my six-month-pregnant frame. Although I knew the group of Black mothers would have strong opinions, I wasn’t prepared for their reactions.
“You can’t name him that!” one exclaimed.
“No, no… we’re going to help you,” another chimed in.
As they began tossing around various names starting with ‘T’, I felt a wave of disappointment wash over me. It hurt to hear my choice dismissed by people who hadn’t even met my son yet. I allowed myself to feel that sting, recognizing it was valid to feel sad about their reactions. However, I also understood their intentions were rooted in love and concern. After all, naming a Black child—especially a Black boy—is a significant responsibility.
For Black mothers, the act of naming carries extra weight. Stereotypical Black names often become the subject of jokes, and names that signal anything outside of whiteness can lead to discrimination. Take President Barack Obama, for example; his middle name, Hussein, became fodder for conspiracy theories and unwarranted accusations. My eldest son has an Arabic middle name that I kept secret for years due to my fears about potential prejudice.
Name discrimination is a harsh reality. Studies show that job applicants with Black-sounding names are less likely to receive callbacks. Yet, uniquely Black names also hold power, serving as a means of reclaiming identity and heritage that has been historically stripped away. But the decision isn’t easy. Do we embrace our children’s Blackness and African roots, or do we prioritize their futures in a world filled with bias? A name that resonates with Black culture can be a bold statement of strength. For me, naming my youngest son Theo was a form of letting go of my anxieties about raising a Black boy in today’s society.
There wasn’t any dramatic backstory to his name. It came from a baby book and an instinct that this name resonated with the little boy I was carrying. His name brought me joy—a feeling that, for Black families, can be a radical act in itself.
If you’re interested in more stories like this, check out one of our other blog posts on home insemination. Additionally, for those navigating their fertility journey, Make a Mom is a great resource. For pregnancy tips, March of Dimes offers excellent information.
Search Queries:
- How to choose a name for a Black baby
- The significance of names in Black culture
- Name discrimination and its impacts
- Breaking naming traditions for children
- The importance of joy in Black motherhood
In summary, naming my son Theo was a conscious choice to embrace joy and let go of fear, challenging the societal pressures that come with naming a Black child. It was an affirmation of my identity and a celebration of my son’s individuality.
Keyphrase: Naming a Black son
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