We were driving down a hill and the tour guide took great care to describe the stream flowing alongside the road. It was about one metre across. It wound to the left, it wound to the right, it curved back on itself as if it wanted to return to where it came from. But then, it would turn again and continue down the slope in its own twisting and turning way. She pointed it out and told us its name in Icelandic. The name, she explained, when translated into English means something like ‘the stream that runs like a politician’. That name was an apt description of how the Icelanders view the stream – and politicians.
A few days later when we were on an island in the arctic circle, the tour guides there told us how unimaginative the names were in this place. The street names in town had arbitrary numbers that had no system, the fjords were named by the first thing that the explorers noticed about them – like a block of ice floating in the ‘ice’ fjord, the valleys named ‘flower valley’ and ‘reindeer valley’ because of what you see there in season.
I thought of home, and many places around the world, where the indigenous language is descriptive of a place. In some places a different people and language have come later and attributed names to these places that represent famous people of the new culture rather than the unique description that was held in the indigenous place name.
We all meet and evaluate people on a regular basis. We might describe them as shy or silly, boring or brave, one who changes their mind on a whim or one who has integrity. Sometimes those descriptions are quite poetic and other times we just tell it how we see it.
Names are powerful things. When we receive a name, that name can define us.
But how many of us realise that we can choose to receive a name or we can choose to reject it?
People will give you a name or a description based on what they see of you. A child who feels injustice might shout a name at their parent out of hurt. Does the parent need to take that name on? No.
But sometimes the parent will take that name on. They will nurse that name and start to believe that name defines the child’s view of them as a parent.
As the parent begins to believe the name hurled at them in a moment of anger, that name reshapes and taints the relationship leading to more hurt, more name calling and a deeper fracturing of relationship.
Alternatively, that same parent could use that name as a clue as to how the child is feeling and use the understanding to restore relationship with the child. Remember that the name gives an insight into the mind of the child, it is not necessarily an accurate description of the parent.
In saying that, when called a name, it is a good idea to evaluate the name and find if there are any kernels of truth to be found there. It can be an opportunity for self-reflection and growth when we hear another’s view of us.
Now take that name caller and make them the parent. A parent’s role is to name a child. A parent often chooses a name because of the meaning, because they like the name or because it describes something of the child’s circumstance or calling. When a parent twists that role and later calls a child a derogatory name, that name can have lasting effects. A child forms their identity through the family unit, so they will likely believe a label given by an older family member.
Add to that the often-cruel words of peers and you have a recipe for belief in this new identity.
Where thought and care have gone into the naming of a child, it carries significance and meaning. But when that child takes on a negative label as their own, it affects their perspective.
We must take care with the labels that we put on others, and on ourselves.
How do you label yourself?
Is it a positive or negative label?
Where do you find evidence to back that name up? Is it when someone doesn’t smile at you? Could that be about their situation rather than about you?
Is it when someone calls you a name? What is their pattern? How do they interact with the world? Do they make a habit of spouting negative labels, or do they usually encourage those around them?
Is it when you make a mistake? Spoiler alert: every single one of us makes mistakes sometimes.
Is it because of something terrible you’ve done? Are you sorry for your action? Could you forgive yourself and turn away from that thing that has defined you for so long? Why or why not? We cannot change the past, but we can deal with past actions and make a fresh start. Maybe it’s something that was done to you. Again, walking the path of forgiveness can restore your sense of identity.
If you have an internal voice that tells you off, shames you, or calls you labels, I encourage you to question that voice. Figure out where the lie came from and replace it with truth about who you really are. As always, if this is too big a challenge, please share the journey with someone who can help or who can point you in the right direction for help.
To dismiss a lie is one thing, but to replace it with the truth is another. I was reading a newsletter this morning of a daughter in her early twenties whose mother regularly said, “I’m not creative”. Yet this mother constantly developed her beautiful garden and it was a pleasure to those who saw it.
To just reject the idea that she’s not creative is one thing, it will probably creep back pretty quickly. But, to reject the idea that she is not creative, realising that she expresses her creativity in the garden, changes things. There is evidence for it.
Now she can change her language. Instead of saying that she isn’t creative she could say that she is creative in the garden but likes to keep things a particular way in the house. Or she loves to garden, but painting is not her skillset. She finds the outdoors an inspiration yet prefers to rest when she’s inside. See how the label is gone? Now she can acknowledge the creativity in a particular space and be okay with the fact that she is less creative in other areas.
How did her label come about I wonder? Perhaps she was comparing her front hallway with a friend – or, as I have experienced – she went to a ceramic painting workshop with some artistic friends and compared her final product with her friend’s (who’s talent is drawing).
I grew up in a city called Hamilton. As I travel the world, I meet people from ‘Hamiltons’ all over the place. Hamilton in Canada, Hamilton in the USA, Hamilton in Tasmania, Hamilton in Sierra Leone. But my Hamilton was originally called Kirikiriroa, a name that refers to the fertile soils found alongside the river there. That gives a deeper insight into my hometown than the name I knew growing up. It is surrounded by farming communities – which makes sense when you know the meaning behind the name.
A fundamental question that we all have is, “who am I?” Who are you really? What defines you? People plaster the same old labels on each other the world over – bossy, lazy, arrogant, stupid, messy, rude, loud. But despite any broad sweeping labels, you are unique.
What is it that truly defines who you are? Is it a heart toward others? The ability to bring order? Insights into strategy? The ability to unite? Working with others? Working independently? Analytical thinking? Hospitality? Relational skills? The ability to walk alongside another and help them grow? Big picture thinking? Attention to detail? Flexibility? A heart for the land?
Those other names and labels might exist, but that doesn’t have to take away from who you are. You can accept or reject them.
Perhaps others will name you creatively, perhaps they will label you based on something they saw in you one day. But what is the description that you choose to live by and allow to define you?
