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I look at my surname like the colour of my eyes. It came with the deal. I'm not having plastic surgery to change my nose, or buying contact lenses to change my eye colour, and I'm not going to go changing my surname.
I wouldn't get married anyway because I think the whole thing is a load of patriarchal crap, but if for any weird reason I ever did I most certainly would not change my surname. And while I don't intend to give offence either, I am not impressed an iota by all the nonsense reasons women give for changing their surnames when they marry. An equal number of men would have an equal number of "good" reasons for changing theirs, and they don't. So since all other things are equal, the reason that women do is not that they love their husbands or hate their fathers or nobody can pronounce or spell their surnames, it's that they've signed on to the patriarchy.
Have I done that by keeping my father's surname? Some might say. I won't avoid that by saying my mother chose it too; her choice was obviously determined by a host of factors having nothing to do with her autonomous preferences.
Our naming system is in need of change. But it's one of those things that is going to take quite some time and run up against huge resistance. Not just because of widespread ideological support for the existing system, but because of how fundamental it is to how we do things, how we do just about everything, and how many aspects of how we do things would have to be different. And because nobody's come up with a good alternative yet. ;) The idea of names not being tied to families, for example, would just require a sea change in our whole culture.
The whole DNA thing is a newfangled wrench in the works, too. I've been obsessively digging into my family history for about three years now. I have a mystery: one of my gr-grfathers adopted a fake surname as a young adult. No one ever knew this; my parent certainly never suspected the family's surname was fake. Only the miracle of online databases and search engines revealed his secret. Because I have access to a son of a son of a son of the gr-grfather in question, once I decide to come up with $300 I can have his DNA checked against the DNA of a pedigreed holder of the name, and find out whether my gr-grfather really was a son of someone by that name. Female line DNA is no good for this purpose at all.
So we now know that as we do things, the surname follows the DNA associated with it, i.e. where a male child is "legitimate" and receives the father's surname, he has also received the male-line DNA associated with the surname. It sure makes things easy for genealogists, I'll tell ya. But genealogists of the future are just going to have to deal.
My nephew has a double-barrelled surname, mother's and father's. What happens when he has kids? Well, let them sort it out, I guess. My sister is a pigheaded sort of person who refused to allow her partner any input into their daughters' given names, and my understanding was that he got to pass on his surname (being an only child of doting parents who cared about this), but it seems they may have ended up double-barrelled as well; I've never figured it out. Again, let them sort it out.
Now for given names ... let's pretend mine is Deborah (it isn't, but my name is similar in that there was an era when it was about the most common one around). To begin with, there were two common spellings of the name: Debra and Deborah. Then, Debbie / Debby / Debbi / Debi. You get five of them in one class, and you start getting numbered. And you grow up, and being called Debbie just seems a little too damned cute. So you try to get people to call you Deborah. And if that doesn't work, you give up and go with Deb. If you're unlucky, your family still insists on calling you Debbie. The Bobbys and Billys of this world just don't seem to have that problem!
I just thank my stars I wasn't born a generation later. I don't think I could live with being a middle-aged Brittany.
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