There’s a coffee shop in my area that I frequently visit to write, read, and do homework occasionally.  After a while (as usually happens when one is frequently sitting in a place for hours at a time) I started making friends with some of the baristas and becoming relatively familiar with the people there.  There was one girl in particular who completely made my day because she got excited that I played bass (for those of you who know my bass-player insecurities, you’ll know why this was such an experience) and we had conversed on a few separate occasions after that. One day, as I was leaving, I told everybody to have a good night and started walking out, and she said “see you later, Dani!” This wasn’t a huge deal, but it struck me that when somebody is truly kind-hearted, it makes a difference when that person says your name.

I’m not sure we realize how important our names are–I mean, it’s this word built from letters that our parents decided on when we were unable to choose it for ourselves.  However, we kind of adapt that as we grow older.  My birth name is Danielle Robyn Wilson–however, my dad swears he has no clue why they wrote “Danielle” on the birth certificate. When my parents found out my mom was pregnant, I was basically going to have the name Dani (or Danny) no matter what gender I was. (In case you wondered, it’s after the song Danny’s Song by Loggins and Messina, which I’ve always enjoyed telling people).  On the thank-you cards from my baby presents, my mom wrote my name “Dani Robyn.”  Since then, I’ve never really let people call me Danielle. In fact, I usually laugh and just tell people it’s not actually my name. Nobody has called me Danielle (unless I’m in trouble, but that’s beside the point), because I’ve always been Dani. But that name has become such a big part of my identity.
I am not a Danielle, I’m a Dani.

For a little more background–I am in love with the Wrinkle in Time series by Madeline L’Engle.  Throughout the books, the main character, Meg, figures out that basically her calling in life is to Name people–she has the ability to see their identity, their calling, and Name them accordingly. Madeline L’Engle says it a lot more beautifully.  But there’s definitely something to be said for that concept–to be named, to be called by a specific identity, is perhaps one of the most secretly special things to happen in life.

In such a time of pain, oppression, and general division in both our nation and our world, what strikes me is that so many people in this world forget that everybody has a name.  Whether people are behind the scope of a gun or a tank, whether you’re launching bombs, signing bills into law, or sitting behind a keyboard letting your network know your opinions, I truly believe they would think differently if they saw everybody as a Named individual with a purpose and an identity.  If we stopped looking through angry eyes and began imagining that we shake the hands of the people around us, saying “Hello, I’m Dani, what’s your name?” Our words, our judgments, our decisions, may not be so quick.  Perhaps the world is due for a shift in focus.  Perhaps we should simply learn that it is time to stop identifying people by their mistakes, shortcomings, or differences and time to start learning people’s names.

Hi, I’m Dani–what’s your name?