Today I was struck by the many names I respond to. Most friends call me Blount (pronounced 'Blunt'), with the exception of friends who know me pre-1999 who call me by my first name, Margaret. The basketball team called me Cricket and the softball team, Margo. Oh, with also the exception of the folks who went back and forth between Margaret and Jocky (probably the weirdest name I've been called) from a camp from 1997-2001. Oh yeah, and don't forget the one person in the world who can get away with calling me 'Marge'... you're lucky I let you do that. Anyone else would be bruised with bandages. Wait, I forgot about senior year of high school when "Blountay" became popular due to a rather interesting story (which I won't retell here). Then in college out of nowhere came Blounty. Then we get to grad school and it's gotten shortened to 'B', which is a little confusing considering that a guy friend a good two feet taller than I also goes by 'B'.
I've also been called darlin, sunshine, sweetheart, sunshine, pistol, tiger, champ...
... the list goes on...
There's something odd when you look down the line of what you've been called over the years. Is it striking to remember why those nicknames come up? Are there certain things you did that sparked those names? For example, the basketball nickname of Cricket was sparked by the way I would jump start with a skip to run down the court. Kinda looked like a cricket apparently. Jocky was used because I was a Jock but needed a feminine twist other than calling me jock.
But, so many times, I feel like the essential question is, what do I WANT to be called? A friend of my Mom's one day on the way to a football game asked in jest, "Well, which personality should I go by this time." To a certain extent, I think we're allowed to do that depending on which name you want to go by. Before moving to California, I asked around to see if I should go back to Margaret. My best friend cornered me at a party and threatened my life if I didn't go by Blount. Not really. But she made a good argument and probably threatened me a little bit.
Picking a name, much like having the right to decide which restaurant is a matter of civil liberty. I've talked about first names and nicknames but what about last names? Traditionally, the last names we have aren't our own decision, at least the ones we are born with. But then, for some in this country, we have the opportunity to change our last names with the sacrament or ceremony of marriage. I say for some because that civil liberty is not extended to those in the LGBT community. And why? Because of the cry of Christian conservatives and Biblical literal translation. It's also a matter of discrimination due to fear and ignorance, in my opinion.
Last summer I had the opportunity to be involved with a camp called the Summer Youth Institute. It was a group of about 30 high school students who are seeking not only to learn more about the African-American Civil Rights movement in Mississippi but also gather tools to go back into their own communities to make a difference. As part of the program, a session with PFLAG (Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays) was worked into the schedule. A member of that panel was Constance McMillan. She made the news headlines because she wanted to wear a tux and bring her girlfriend as a date to her prom in Mississippi. When she spoke, she felt it was necessary to bash the bible beaters and use a blanket statement that all Christians were like that.
At this point I was forced into a weird decision: identifying myself as both a lesbian and a christian, I wanted those who identified in the LGBT community to know that it is possible to be both. I also wanted to keep the objective distance as a leader and not someone to bring the personal on the table. However, I ultimately made the decision to stand up and make a simple statement that being a Christian and a member of the gay community was not such an odd thing at all. Now, that was an uncomfortable situation for me. But it was necessary.
How many times have we as individuals chosen to not stand up for who we are, both in name and essence, when it's needed the most? When have we been silent for the sake of not making a ruckus when we should have spoken up? Collectively as a nation we did it in the African-American Civil Rights movement, but on an individual basis, we do it everyday. It's as simple as refusing to speak up with your own name. It's as simple as standing up for your essential liberties.
I am Margaret Blount Montgomery. I am a sister, I am a daughter, I am a Christian, I am a Young Adult, I am an American and more importantly I am a champion of making this world a better place.
Who are you?
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