toska

I want my name back

Upon my arrival in the US 27.5 years ago, I assumed the last name of my adopters. Stripped of my birth language and culture, I was a blank slate, or at least that's what my parents wanted me to be. Ironically, my then new-to-me American surname has always had that effect. Washing me out.

I see my last name everywhere. I can't deny that there are some benefits to this. Unlike several of my friends, I never need to correct a stranger's pronunciation of my surname. There are also privacy benefits. Quite simply, it's harder in some cases (for a human being) to find out exactly who I am with just my name from a simple Internet search because hundreds of others have the same one (please don't try to somehow hunt me down after reading this).

Still, I often can't believe that this is my last name. It doesn't feel right. It isn't me. I don't hear or read my name and feel any sense of ownership over that person. Is that the right way to phrase it? I don't know. All I know is that I read my name, be it on a publication or in a friend's contact list, and feel disconnected from what is supposed to be me but deep down really isn't.

It also reminds me of my own childhood experiences, many of which were negative. I cut contact with my adoptive mother several years ago already and barely talk with my adoptive father. My mom has also unfortunately discovered my address a few years ago and has a history of trying to spy on me, and I don't think that sharing a surname with her helps the situation. Bearing this surname therefore feels like I can't shake them entirely from me.

In recent times I've daydreamed more and more about going through the process of changing my last name.

You may be thinking: But Toska, all you have to do is get married. Then you can change your last name. Problem solved.

The thing is that I simply don't want that. I love the surname I was given at birth but then had to surrender seven months later. It was taken away, and I want it back. It isn't a super common surname in Russia as a whole, but it is in the minority regions from which I originate. It sounds nice. I look at myself in the mirror and think that I look like someone who has this last name. It doesn't matter if the world thinks otherwise or wants me to.

Would it be harder for most people to pronounce? Certainly. Would it make me more vulnerable? Maybe. What would others think, could employers discriminate against me? I don't think that could be ruled out entirely.

Despite all those possibilities, I know I would feel more at peace if I recovered what I lost. It would be a big win on my ongoing journey to reclaim my identity.

As I have no plan to take on someone else's through marriage, I realize that I am stuck with my current identifier unless I take action. Unfortunately, changing your name is not the easiest thing to do, and I fear I become even more trapped under this one with each passing day.

It can be expensive. If I wanted to change my last name tomorrow, I would then have to prematurely renew not one but two passports. Even without a passport, there is a name change filing fee that varies by state.

It is also time-consuming. Obviously you have to wait months to submit an application for and receive a new passport. You also have to notify the postal service, your banks, the state and national taxing authorities, utility companies, insurance providers, employers, schools, and the list just goes on and on. You need to get new IDs.

The process itself is also archaic in some cases. Unless you just got married or divorced, of course. In that case you instantly possess the right to change your name. But if you want or need to change your name for any other reason, you have to wait for a slot to open in your state court's calendar and then appear to make the case for your name change. Are you trans? Do you just not like your name and want to be called something totally different? Good luck.

After you petition to change your name, some states even require you to publish a public notice in a newspaper so that anyone who objects can come forward. Apparently this is to prevent fraud and ensure "transparency" in legal proceedings. I realize that there should be some prerequisites to changing your name, but I can't help but feel this is something out of the 1800s. I'm no lawyer though, so please feel free to correct me.

In my case, there's another layer to this: I work in science. My name is already on several publications. Fortunately, ORCID, the unique identifier typically attached to those who have worked in academia, recognizes the possibility of name changes and can still link publications to an individual who changed their name. But nothing is perfect, and I do wonder if my advisor and/or even the department at large would be weirded out if I raised this topic to them. I'm on the brink of finally publishing a first-author paper, and I don't think adding a name change to the mix is a good idea. Though it could probably take longer than the whole peer review process anyway.

I don't know what to do. Maybe I'll try to change it when both of my passports are due for renewal. Maybe I'll forever daydream and never actually do anything about it. It's hard because I want to move abroad later this year, and that will eventually add even more IDs I would have to update and even more entities and services I would have to notify if I change my name. So, I think it will become even more difficult the longer I wait. I wish I would have done this years ago.