To be Named.

I think your mythology would call them (Echthroi) fallen angels. War and hate are their business, and one of their chief weapons is un-Naming - making people not know who they are. If someone knows who he is, really knows, then he doesn't need to hate. That's why we still need Namers, because there are places throughout the universe like your planet Earth. When everyone is really and truly Named, then the Echthroi will be vanquished. 
~Madeleine L’Engle. The Wind in the Door.

I’ve been pondering the power of names lately. This rabbit trail of thought started as I watched Derek DelGaudio’s In and Of Itself, a Hulu original program compiled from DelGaudio’s live one-man stage show, performed in a small theater in New York. If you haven’t seen it, find the time. It’s magic, sort of, and illusion, sort of, and all-over powerful. I’ve watched it twice and one segment, near the end, the naming part, I’ve watched at least four times. 

As people go into the show, they pick a card from a wall with about a thousand cards that say “I am . . .” and then each has a different word. “I am a teacher.” “I am an innovator.” “I am a single mother.” “I am a good time.” “I am the one that got away.” “I am a problem solver.” “I am an advocate.” They keep the card and find a seat in the theater and it’s almost forgotten as the show proceeds.

Near the end of the program, DelGaudio goes through the audience and identifies each person by the name they chose for themselves. It’s astonishing – not so much how he does that, that’s puzzling but not impossible to figure out – it’s the reaction that each of those people have to being called out by the name they chose for themselves. People cried. I cried.

 “True identity”, DelGaudio says, “is that which exists within one’s own heart and is seen by another.”

 He’s an actor, an entertainer, and he’s good, but it’s easy to forget to be cynical and just watch what happens when those audience members are named.

I watched it over and over and I kept thinking of Madeleine L’Engle’s The Wind in the Door, a good vs. evil conflict set in a young adult (but good for all of us) novel. Evil is personified by the Echthroi, who are trying to bring the universe to a sense of nothingness and emptiness, where no one really exists. The Namers are the good, combatting the Echthroi by Naming everyone, to solidify their identities and places in the world. L’Engle capitalizes “Naming” every time, shining the light of importance of calling people by name, seeing their true identity and giving that identity place and substance.

So Derek DelGaudio got me thinking about identity cards, my favorite YA author, Echthroi and Namers, and how I do – or don’t – fully engage myself in being a Namer for those in my world.

And then, right in the middle of all that thinking, I witnessed the most significant Echthroi moment that I can imagine. 

A dear friend, a brilliant, beautiful trans woman, lost her brother in an accident. Her family was, let’s say, less than supportive as she transitioned into her true identity. My friend expected that her dead name would be used in her brother’s obituary, which would, I’m sure have carried a hurt all its own. But she wasn’t mentioned at all. Not listed among the survivors. Not named.

I couldn’t breathe when I read about this injury, but I’ve absolutely no idea what inner pain that must have brought to her. I do know that names matter. They matter in these big, hit-to-the-heart situations that take our breath away, but they also matter in the smaller, whispered moments of our lives. Our names are magic to our own ears. Our names stand for that true identity that DelGaudio played on, “that which exists in one’s own heart and is seen by another.”

I kept following the rabbit trail of naming and I also thought about work advice I give to myself (and most everybody I work with). “People want to be known. Show them you know them.” It’s more than just calling people by the correct name, addressing their mail to the right name, getting their gifts right. That all matters (honestly, that’s the least we owe anyone who’s contributing to our organizations in any way) but that’s not really knowing, naming our partners. We Name them when we value their life experiences and see them as more than a “donor”, “volunteer”, “teammate”. We Name them when we take the time to listen to why our work matters to them, how their life is intertwined with our cause, and what it is about our work that feeds their soul. We Name them when we’re able to recognize the identity card that they’ve choose to live into and we validate it within our organization, from asking about preferred pronouns to offering them meaningful volunteer work that affirms their identity. It’s not what we document in our CRM and use to get bigger, better, more from them. It’s what we see when we’re able to look at each partner in our organization as a whole, multi-faceted person. One with a name.

This is where being a nonprofit technician falls so far short of our best work. In our family circles, in our friendships, in our day-to-day exchanges, and in our important professional work, seeing and naming the true, chosen identity of all those within our circle matters. Say their names.

“Well, then, if I’m a Namer, what does that mean? What does a Namer do?”

The wings drew together, the eyes closed, singly, and in groups, until all were shut. Small puffs of mist-like smoke rose, swirled about him. “When I was memorizing the names of the stars, part of the purpose was to help them each to be more particularly the particular star each one was supposed to be. That’s basically a Namer’s job. Maybe you’re supposed to make earthlings feel more human.” 
~Madeleine L’Engle. The Wind in the Door.