Finding a Woman In a Haystack

The ever-insightful Echidne has up a though-provoking post on genealogy and how patriarchal naming practices cause women to “disappear into the midst of time”.

I’m not especially interested in genealogy myself, but my sister is a major enthusiast, and I’ll admit I enjoy joining her for a trip to the archives now and then. It’s a bit like a puzzle hunt, trying to draw together scraps of data - family stories, census and military records, birth and death and wedding certificates, and the odd newspaper article. (From a 1880 newspaper: “Anthony Roden met with a horrible death Friday, while coupling cars. His head was caught between two bumpers and was crushed into a shapeless mass. He leaves a wife and five children in destitute circumstances.” **shudder**)

While we haven’t really run into the issue Echidne cites of wives being disappeared entirely - we usually get at least a first name - there are definitely whole branches left unexplored. “Julia from Ireland” and “Ruchel from Kiev” aren’t very much to go on. We’ve traced one branch back to the 17th century - emblematically, the one branch that is entirely patrilineal, father after father after father. Others, such as my grandmother’s mother’s, end abruptly, for my grandmother didn’t know her own grandmother’s maiden name, and no document we can find will give it to us.

While a lack of documentation is unlikely to plague the women of my own generation - (and now I’m imagining a youtube video of my great-grandmother dancing in a speakeasy) - I find myself feeling a pang of regret for all the women my own age who have gotten married and taken their husbands’ last names, or have decided not to pass down their last names to their children. Mind you, I don’t think less of the individuals; in a perfect world, their decisions would be unremarkable for entirely different reasons. But as a whole, I find it sad that women are still being pressured into giving up their own names, while I do not know a single man who has even considered it - and I know some pretty liberal men.

Of course, I’m biased. I have a hyphenated name, and I’m fiercely proud of my mother for insisting on it and of my father for agreeing to it. No, hyphenation isn’t a perfect solution - what do you do when you have three, four, a hundred and four last names? Eventually, someone does have to give up some or all of their birth name. But until the day when that someone isn’t always the woman, that someone won’t be me.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go take embarrassing youtube videos of myself. You know. For the sake of my grandchildren.