Thursday, April 2, 2009

Is a rose by any other name cultural appropriation?


I've been reading and thinking a lot about cultural appropriation lately, kicked off in particular by the - phenomenon? series of unfortunate events? interesting and ultimately productive discussion despite many derailments? - known as Racefail '09 over the last few months. Came across this article related to the Burning Man festival, an event I have considered attending. Much food for thought here. 

Only in the last few days have I realized level of cultural appropriation involved in my name, my last name in particular. Some 20 years ago when I was young, with a nascent feminist consciousness, a desire to separate myself from my past and my family, and a longstanding interest in ancient religions and a new interest in ancient goddesses in particular, I decided to change my name. Partly to create a new persona to replace the self I thought could not survive, and partly because I did not want to wear my father's name. (My family understood my reasons; that's a whole other story, for another day.) 

After much 'research' into books like The Dictionary of Goddesses and Heroines and The Women's Book of Myths and Secrets, I decided on the name I have now, Tanith Katja Korravai. (Hey, it was almost Maya Hekat). 

Tanith was the sky goddess of ancient Carthage. I have always loved the sky, and as a Classics major, with a particular fondness for the story of Dido and Aeneas, I felt that the historical name of Dido's goddess (referred to as Juno in the Aeneid) fit more than any other.  At the time, I was only aware of one other person named Tanith, the science fiction and fantasy author Tanith Lee. There are more now, including an Olympic ice dancer. The goddess Tanith (Tanit, Tanit pene Baal) has not been actively worshipped for upwards of 2 millennia to my knowledge, and I don't know of anyone who might be even vaguely offended by my use of it. (The brief summary of Carthaginian religion on Wikipedia is consistent with my knowledge from my long ago classical studies, for those who are interested.)

Katja is my mother's name.

Korravai is another story. At the time I found only one brief reference to her as a Dravidian warrior goddess. That's it. Pre-internet, finding information on obscure ancient goddesses was more difficult than now, and even with the resources of the UC Berkeley library available to me (via a friend who was actually enrolled; I was only ever a summer student there *sigh*; I loved that school...) I could find no other reference to her, not that I looked that hard. I wanted a name that was meaningful to me but obscure enough that no one else would be likely to have any associations with it. Korravai met those criteria and I liked the sound of it. And that was that. 

Until the concept of cultural appropriation came into my consciousness and I started thinking about my name. Unlike Tanith, I know nothing about the goddess Korravai or the culture in which she was significant. That now feels disrespectful, and thanks to the internet, I can begin to remedy this ignorance. (I've worn this name for over 25 years now, and I feel no desire to change it; if it actively offended anyone I know I'd consider it, but none of the (East) Indian people I've known have ever heard of the name. Then again, I've never been to Southern India, so I have no idea how Korravai figures in contemporary Indian culture, if at all.) 

Over the next year I will track down all the information I can reasonably access on the history and culture of the people who worshipped Korravai, her stories and their connections to other myths. It seems the least I can do to honor the goddess and her people for the meaning I've taken from that name for all of my adult life.

1 comment:

  1. Your solution sounds like a respectful one to me. But then, it's not mine to "forgive" the unwitting mistakes of your youth.

    ReplyDelete