But I am spinning from rolling my eyes at this idiot article from Slate (why am I still reading Slate?).
I mean, feel free to call me out here, if I deserve it, but what is that? I couldn’t stop reading - it was like a train wreck I couldn’t look away from. I feel like I just looked directly into the sun.
When Lev was born, we named him Liev—a name that autocorrect doesn’t think exists.
I mean, I do realize that naming a child is a process, and it is lovely if it’s meaningful. But this couple’s wavering between whether to name the kid the Ukranian or the Russian version of a name (which, presumably, aren’t the heritage of the people involved) seems...absurd.
And then she writes a whole thing, about the completely fascinating fact that there is, indeed, a way to legally change a name.
I get that this is important. I get that names mean something. I get that maybe the kid didn’t seem to be the right name. This is why I feel like I might be a little off base here.
Maybe I’m just having a privilege fit. Maybe the whole thing just feels appropriate-y.
ETA: The husband does have a connection to Ukranian history, even if not his exact lineage.