Here in Malawi there’s a more recent custom of asking a
foreigner—most likely from Europe or the U.S.—to name a newborn child. We
presume this comes from the desire of the Malawian parents to create a strong
bond between the child and a foreign friend of the family who may be able to
assist in supporting that child as he/she grows. It is not unusual for families
to have met someone through various missionary groups or non-profit
organizations who they later ask to assist them with paying for the child’s school
fees, for example.
This concept struck a chord with me—we recently have heard
the news that some Malawian acquaintances of ours have a newborn baby girl
whose name comes from the Scots Gaels language (I think it is similar to Maura,
but it sounded like it may have a “k” sound at the end; Mauragh in Scots
Gaels?). This immediately made sense, since the mother has been associated with
a missionary group from Scotland who came to do some work in Malawi and she has
even been to the UK to see the group up there.
The strong bond formed from naming someone, however, is not
only made tangible through the incredible opportunity of being asked to give
someone’s child the name by which they will be known. Merely acknowledging a
person by their given name is often a powerful event that we often take for
granted. When I happen to meet a former student on the streets of Blantyre, it
brings so much more joy to the student’s face if I am able to recall his/her
name. It feels good to hear someone call us by name; it is an acknowledgement
of our existence and tells us in even the smallest of ways that I am memorable.
In a decade of ministry I’ve tried to remember names as best
as possible. At one parish, the children going through our various ministries
exceeded 700, however, and the addition of guardians and volunteers caused the
number to probably exceed 2000. I, of course, was unable to remember everyone’s
name, but it is surprising just how many one can recall when you decide to make
an effort. I fear that in my various ministries in Elkhart, Notre Dame, Peoria,
Safety Harbor, and now Lunzu I have met so many people that I would do a
terrible job of remembering names at a high school reunion. Some people hold
jobs where perhaps a half-dozen people at most are new every year, but as
anyone in ministry or teaching can attest—there is a revolving door of new
faces and names every single year.
It still impresses me, then, when my parents mention a
former teacher or school counselor they’ve recently run into and who at the
sight of my parents’ are able to recall my name. Being a good student may have
helped make me a bit more memorable than others, but nonetheless, I can
remember my elementary school principal—Mr. Stajkowski, or Mr. S as most of us
called him—standing outside even on the snowy days to greet as many students by
name as he could. I remember him knowing just about everyone, from the newest
arrival to the perennial retained, from the handicapped students to those
accomplished in sports, from the student being dropped off in the latest brand
name clothes to the kid coming from the trailer park wearing the same outfit as
the day before. And looking back, it seems the students at that school had a
remarkably high sense of self-esteem.
So if you run into someone whose name you know today—an
acquaintance, a member from your church, even a worker with a name tag—greet
them by their name. Even if there’s seemingly no reaction, I bet you bring a
little sense of importance to them that they wouldn’t otherwise have felt. And
if you don’t recall the person’s name, ask them it at least shows you care
enough to know.
I had a similar experience with a college professor. Before our first meeting of the intro to visual arts class, he took a photo of every student that came in, and by the next time the class met two days later, he had learned everyone's name. It was 50-60 students. It was really impressive, and I still remember it 12 years later!
ReplyDelete-JoAnne