I love names. I love the stories behind the name, how a name can define a person and sometimes not. Names are important. Even God knows us by name.
My church offered a seminar called Younique – a course on finding our “one-of-a-kind divine design” and I jumped in. I’ve been struggling with some of the current issues of the day, and sometimes I wonder how do I fit in to this mess. It’s a wonderful seminar!
In one session we were assigned to list our names, all of them including nicknames. I’m Rebecca Lyn. My dad picked my name and often called me and introduced me as Rebecca. My sisters, not much older than me when I was born, could not say this name, and so my mom and sisters called me Becky. My Godparents gave me a copy of Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm for my 8th birthday. In school, I was called by both names, except for fourth grade. There were three of us with the same name, so our teacher called one Rebecca, one Becky, and she called me by my middle name, Lyn. I had a hard time responding that year, when addressed by the teacher lol.
My mom also called me Bug, a nickname she told me came from my wide-eyed look when being chastised. I might still wear that look when troubled. My sister, Linda, called me Becky-Boo at times. My mom also liked to call me Baby Girl – me being the youngest of three daughters, and my relief when baby #4 was a little brother and I was still my mom’s Baby Girl.
I’ve always liked my name Rebecca, and have never minded that many prefer to call me Becky. I answer to both. In our Younique class, the next assignment was to look up the meaning of our names. I knew in the Bible Rebecca was married to Isaac, and was the mother of Jacob and Esau. What I didn’t know is the Hebrew root meaning of Rebecca is “to tie” or “bind.” Hmmm. What does that mean exactly? I was puzzled. But deeper reflection led me to think in terms of bringing together, and unity. Something that is very important to me.
And then I turned to the name Becky. Yikes. At first look, its meaning takes on that of Rebecca, not one of its own. But in further research, the name Becky has a modern meaning as well, and it’s not a good one. According to Dictionary.com/slang “Becky is a stereotype for a white woman, especially one who is unaware or takes advantage of her social privilege.” Oh my, not very unifying that one. Perhaps a name can give us something to live up to, but in some cases, something to speak up to (or against.)
As I researched this assignment, I came across a novel that made me smile when I read the title, and then glow when I read the pages. Rebecca, Not Becky, is coauthored by Christine Platt and Catherine Wigginton Greene. It’s a fun read that speaks to a very important topic, and one that is dear to my heart: finding love and unity in a world so torn apart. The back cover blurbs:
“Platt and Wigginton Greene have gifted us with a story that is beautiful, honest, funny, and unapologetic. Exploring the complexities of motherhood, interracial friendships, and community, REBECCA, NOT BECKY pushes readers to examine their biases and lean into discomfort. Y’all this is the book we need to read if we want to grow and cultivate a deeper understanding that everyone can work towards racial justice and it’s best when we do it together!” — Tiffany Jewell, #1 New York Times bestselling author of This Book Is Antiracist
“Platt and Wigginton Greene drop a big spoon into the stewpot of race, relationship, class, and age, and serve the reader one sip at a time. Some of it is sweet. Some, sour. Some of it is even a bit spicy. But all of it…yes all of it, is delicious (and might even be healthy). Masterfully done!” — #1 New York Times bestselling author Jason Reynolds
“REBECCA, NOT BECKY reminds us that learning to navigate the complexities of womanhood, motherhood, and sisterhood can lead us to healing cultural and generational trauma. And it is indeed worth ‘doing the work.’” — Alex Elle, New York Times bestselling author of How We Heal
And from the inside flap: “A whip-smart, compulsively readable debut that explores motherhood, friendship, and the true meaning of sisterhood amid America’s racial reckoning.” That sums up the book beautifully, and I’ll just add that it’s an enjoyable read that packs power in those pages!
In the end, people can call us many names. But there’s comfort in knowing that God knew our name before we were born. Isaiah 43:1 says, “I have summoned you by name. You are mine.”
Love, Rebecca
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be always acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my strength and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14