What’s in a name? Well in the South it’s everything. It precedes
a person and tells others a little (or a lot) about the background of the
person and about his or her family. Names in the South are weights, and those
weights can be positive or negative. It’s really hard to explain to people from
other areas of the country just how impacting names are below the Mason-Dixon
Line.
First of all, if you’re born with one of those
my-family-signed-the-Declaration-of-Independence surnames, well…aren’t you one
of the lucky ones. A good name in the South opens doors and gets you respect
like you wouldn’t believe. Admittance to the right private country clubs (ones
that most people have never even heard of), seats on prestigious boards, and
invitations to all the happening parties are at your disposal. So…if you have
one of those venerable last names like Rutledge or Harrison or Jefferson…well, “Bless
your heart” (Prolific Insincere Southern Statement—P.I.S.S.).
But you just cannot rest on your laurels and hope that you
are born into the “right” family. You’d better hope that your parents have the
good sense to bestow a proper given name also. In the South, that starts with
looking at your ancestors. And the best place to begin is with your mother’s
maiden name. Yes, people…in the South, our sons’ and daughters’ first names
frequently come from their mothers’ maiden names. It’s where we get unusual
first names like Drayton, Ashley (now overused), Smith and Tradd. And, of
course, it’s always okay to use simple, respectable ancestral first names like
James or Thomas or Mary or Elizabeth. Just stay away from names like Kylie or
Apple or Rocket (they’re so Hollywood—and so looked down upon by snooty people
you don’t care about).
Finally, if you’re lucky enough to end up with a name like
James Jefferson Middleton or Elizabeth Anson Rutledge, it’s acceptable for your
family to give you an approachable nickname. Try Sissy or Skippy or Peaches or
Beau, for example. They must be an equal part Southern and an equal part cute
to make it through the Southern name police.
And then there’s the other part of the South—the people who
make up the majority of the population—some would say…the real people of the
South—people with names like Skeeter and Shrimp and Queenie and Flossie—people who
don’t give a rodent’s rear about those private country clubs or those
prestigious charity boards. They are the people who won’t bother saying, “Bless
your heart.” At the first hint that you’ve let your illustrious Southern name
go to your head, they’ll just say, “’Prolific Insincere Southern Statement’ off!”