What’s in a Name?
What Bad Bunny shows us about shrinking to fit.
Sunday, I watched a man stand up and say “My name is Benito Antonio Martinez Ocasio, and if I’m here today, it’s because I never — never — stopped believing in myself, and you should believe in yourself too. You’re worth more than you think.” I’m translating from Spanish, because he said it in Spanish, and left us (we who are SSL -Spanish as Second Language – or maybe not at all) to catch up. He did not hide. He did not placate. He did not shrink to fit a box that couldn’t contain him, to better please a wider audience. He stood proud in who he is, and gave the single-most electrifying, joyful, ebullient, history-making, record-breaking watershed performance ever celebrating his heritage, culture and identity.
HINENI.
That’s the biggest Hineni I’ve ever seen. Outstanding performance from an entertainment lens generally, made laudable beyond belief in a climate more violent and racist every week. It got me thinking about my own identity, ways I overcompensate to be understood clearly – and how we’re all just trying to fit in, really, to this crazy melee to chase our dreams.
I wanted to be on stage when I was a kid. Somewhere in between astronaut, jockey, and having a big farm for all the unloved animals to be rescued, groomed and petted all day… I thought: Broadway. (Or prima ballerina. Or rock star. Anything!) But I remember voicing this excitedly, to be told quite flatly I’d need to change my name. “Rubenstein’s not a stage name. Too ethnic. Too Jewy. People want something white-sounding. ‘Smith’, maybe! Or really anything vaguely British sounding.” I studied big performers of the day: all easy, uncomplicated names. Some seemingly destined to be on a marquee: glamorously plain, spectacularly spare and Anglo. None identifiably Jewish ethnically. It was explained to me patiently, almost cheerfully: lots of Jews out there in plain sight, hiding! Ralph Lauren for instance: “Imagine a polo pony on a shirt from ‘Ralph Lifshitz’?” I giggled, “THAT’S SILLY!” I didn’t know I was recalibrating, how to be more accepted broadly. As so many already before me. Kirk Douglas! Mel Brooks! Winona Ryder! Gene Simmons! Bob Dylan! I spent less time practicing, more time doodling potential stage names in the margins of every notebook, looking for that magic one that felt right. None did. They weren’t me. I lost the urge to be a star (unless of course someone reading this wants to cast me, in which case ooohoohooh I dance, act and sing!) but didn’t lose sense that being me… wouldn’t get anywhere on a stage someone wanted to see. ̶
Around this same time, I realized Jewish girls around me were getting nose jobs to fit Anglo ideals of beauty. Or chemically straightening their hair when curls were “too” unruly. Message received: we’re not good enough as we came. Assimilate. Speak English only (certainly not Yiddish, or anything from the old country). Dress and look like those around us, shrink to fit their ways. Alter ourselves surgically when needed. Just for heavens’ sakes, don’t be different in any way. All in the name of being seen by those who can’t see. And probably just think what they want to, anyway.
Hineni.
“The only thing more powerful than hate is love.” May we love each other, and ourselves, more fully. May we stop trying to shed what makes us unique. Thank you Benito, for showing up as you were made- for your community specifically, but for all of us who look, sound, speak or act a little differently. Thank you for your message of love and unity. Your exuberance is inspiring, and your courage to not capitulate brings rare joy. A man just being who he is, unapologetically, shed light where it was needed to this big, messy country. Together we are America. All accents, backgrounds and family stories.
