My Name

I have never before reflected on what my name means to me.  In fact, I have never really thought about my name at all except for one memory I have from kindergarten.  It was my first week of school and I loved the new experience.  When we started to learn letters, however, we also were given the task of mastering the spelling of our own names.  My name had 28 letters in it:  Stephanie Elena Swartzendruber, or the nightmare of any beginning speller.  My kindergarten teacher later told my mom and dad at parent-teacher conferences that the first time she handed me the card with my name on it, I didn’t say anything, but clearly communicated my horror with the expression on my face.

One Christmas I received a “name card” in my stocking from the Faith and Life Bookstore in Hastings, Nebraska.  According to this card, my name means “Crowned One.”  I’m not sure how I feel about this as I don’t think the name Stephanie is found in any religious texts.  My parents named me Stephanie because they liked the way it sounded.  If I had been a boy, I would’ve been named Seth, which is similar.  My middle and last names have more significance because they come from family members.  Elena comes from my mom’s sister Ellen, as she knew my parents both pretty well before they even met each other.  Swartzendruber is my Dad’s last name and originally comes from Germany.  It was intriguing two summers ago when I went on a choir trip to Southern Germany and we stayed in a town that was full of people whose last names were some form of Swartzendruber.  It made me feel like a part of something bigger than the 360 people who make up Shickley, Nebraska.

My grandpa is the only person I know who calls me Stephanie.  The rest of my family and friends calls me Steph, and that is how I usually introduce myself to people.  When I was little my dad called my “Edith” or “A.” (My younger brother was “B” and my younger sister was “C”).  Growing up, my friends have called me various forms of my name, the most recent stemming from the word “Peff.”  Variations of this name include “Peffelant,” “Puffer Fish,” ice cold “Pefsky,” and “Peffermint Pie.” 

What is a name?  I sometimes wonder if my life would be different if I had been named “Nancy” or “Evelyn.”  Would I have a different perception of myself?  Would it have mattered at all?  In the book Anne of Green Gables, Anne Shirley hates her plain name and wishes she would have been named Cordelia, a romantic and captivating name.  I, however, am quite content with my ordinary, un-romantic name.