Identity, Artifact, and Name
Another area that is still in its beginning stages of research is on identity development, ancestral objects, and artifacts as well as the importance of name as an ancestral legacy for the development of one’s identity and sense of belonging. Although proper names and last names do not mean the same for different families and cultures, it is an important part of a person’s sense of self and permission to be who they are (Dumitrascu, 2020; McAndrew, 2020; Zulu, 2020). In the last 10 years, new research on this matter has shown how discrimination of names and loss of name can be a handicap in one’s development. Furthermore, research combining transgenerational trauma (TGT) and early attachment showed that both could affect one’s development of identity and resilience (Cohen et al., 2003; Willis & Cashwell, 2017). Furthermore, ancestral objects and artifacts can help place attachment for migrant women and in some communities aid ancestral embodiment and spiritual/ moral guidance (Alubafi & Kaunda, 2019; Christou & Janta, 2019). Lastly, storytelling of one’s identity often involves one’s ancestral history and shows how it can help with meaning-making and sense of self in migrants (Haraldsson & McLean, 2021).
In a small qualitative study, Amir and Lev-Wiesel (2001) studied the effect of losing one’s identity name on one’s personality development and psychological wellbeing. The authors used a demographic data questionnaire, PTSD scale, Quality of life scale, psychological distress scale and potency scale (this one for measuring self-esteem, sense of control, perception and commitment to society as a just place). Two groups of 23 survivors from the Holocaust were chosen, a group that lost their identity and name and the other that knew their family name. “Results showed that survivors with lost identity had lower physical, psychological and social quality of life and higher somatization, depression, and anxiety scores than survivors with known identity” (p. 859). Authors discussed family disruption and trauma on 50,000 children that were given different identities to hide and survive to arrive in Israel after World War II. The authors quote one of these survivors that never met her parents and lost her name identity:
"Who am I? Who are my parents? Do I look like either of them? I would give
my entire current life for a moment with my parents … just to see them once … to
hug my mother, to be kissed by her, to know my real name. I lost my childhood.
Why did I have to lose my identity as well?" (Amir & Lev-Wiessel, 2001, p. 859)
This research found no previous studies on the consequence of losing one’s original identity. Although previous studies had suggested that the loss of identity and feelings of self-worth could be part of a lifetime of bereavement on losing parents during the Holocaust. This study was small and other elements might have caused the symptoms of the group that lost their family identity, including attachment trauma, transgenerational trauma and the difference in quality of environmental support and resources. Identity was somewhat created by understanding one’s ancestral history and putting together a coherent story with names and places.
Another study wanted to understand if TGT affects one’s development of identity formation and tolerance for intimacy. According to Cohen et al. (2003), “Children need a supportive and nourishing environment to ensure their growth and development” (p. 611). Therefore, when it comes to identity and fear of intimacy, these authors conducted a quantitative research measure the level of PTSD and fear of intimacy in three groups: participants that were children when they survived the Holocaust that went through psychotherapy treatment (n = 43), or non-clinical participant that did not seek psychotherapy treatment (n = 48). The control group were Israeli born who did not experience the Holocaust (n = 43). No difference was found in fear of intimacy when it came to participants that survived Holocaust, independent of having gone through psychotherapy treatment, especially when it came to fear of abandonment. The PTSD inventory was based on a self-report scale based on the 17 PTSD symptoms in the DSM-III, while the fear of close personal relationship questionnaire was based on the five types of fear of intimacy based on Feldman’s theory of marital intimacy which included fear of merging, fear of exposure, fear of attaching, fear of abandonment and fear of own destruction. The results of this study showed that participants who had treatment of psychotherapy seemed more vulnerable to PTSD than others, however the participants that did not have treatment showed higher PTSD symptoms than expected. This study points to the issues that the trauma of separation from parents may have created in long term traumas and therefore having a long-term effect on relational health and ability to tolerate intimacy and development of stable identity.
Willis and Cashwell (2017) conducted a study with 192 college students on predicting identity status while measuring attachment, differentiation and meaning making. Previous studies claimed that identity as a building block in a person’s development and sense of well-being. Authors reviewed different identity theories including the “two components of identity: identity exploration and identity commitment” (p. 81); which could be seen in different degrees as identity achievement (exploration and commitment are respectively both high), identity moratorium (high and low), identity foreclosure (low and high) and identity diffusion (both low). Authors reviewed many studies that showed that identity commitment can predict greater life satisfaction, positive affect, high self-esteem, meaning and satisfaction in life, well-being, as well as lower depression, lower anxiety, lower social anxiety, lower rule-breaking and social/physical aggression. Coming from these premises, researchers wanted to clarify what components allowed them to predict these outcomes. Six instruments were used: Extended Objective Measure of Ego Identity Status II to measure identity status; Experiences in Close Relationship Scale-Short Form to measure attachment styles; Differentiation of Self-Inventory to differentiation of the self; Mood Survey to measure mood, Interpersonal Communication Inventory to measure communication as well as one’s openness and defensiveness in interpersonal relationships; and personal Power and Possibility Scale to measure personal narratives. “The findings support the hypothesis that the predictors from attachment theory (attachment-related anxiety and avoidance), intergenerational family therapy (differentiation of self), and the identity process model (mood, communication, and personal narrative) can significantly predict identity status in emerging adulthood” (p. 87). Each predictor for each identity process was different and none was able to be a predictor for all four identities. Also, communication was not relevant as a predictor for identity achievement, moratorium, foreclose or diffusion. An important result for storytelling was that identity achievement was mostly predicted by personal narrative and mood, which according to authors, is congruent with past research. Implications for counseling treatment include focusing on developing a clear personal narrative. Furthermore, the authors recommend assisting the integration of multiple identities through existential and Gestalt approaches. Finally, attachment, differentiation and meaning making seem to be possible predictors of identity.
From an anthropological and sociological perspective, Alubafi and Kaunda
(2019) studied spirituality in Cameroon Western Grassfield. Identity here was seen through the lens of a community around the passing down of ancestral objects to chosen descendants that would have the divine power to connect with the deceased past owner. Authors spoke about ancestral objects as a portal to embodying ancestors and a path to find moral actions and well-being. The African community engaged with their ancestors and the spiritual world through a material object, giving meaning and validity to the ancestral system. By inheriting an object from a king or title holder, the descendent would have the power to represent and connect with one’s ancestral spirit for the well-being of the community. Authors argue, the past research is too focused on the symbolism of the object versus the meaning making the object provides. Authors argue that the ancestral object the community’s perception and meaning making or interpretation of reality. Interestingly, without a legitimate descendant, the object has no power. In the case of the Western Grassfield, the royal drinking horn and traditional stool gets activated only when it is used by the right person. At that point, “the legitimate king is unionised (king-stool relation) as material embodiment, expressions and representation of the presence of the ancestors, among their relatives” (p. 1). When the legitimate person embodies the object, that person also connects with the morals that the community was historically established. That way, the ancestor has “divine power to punish the living members of the descent group” (p. 3). This divine connection through an object also cannot be passed down if the deceased did not use that object. Therefore, ancestral artefacts seem to have the power to not only connect the community with their ancestors but also guide the community into social norms and moral values established before.
A study on the significance of objects in connecting women’s identity with their homeland stated: “The interrelationship between people and things as well as the affective meanings those objects may have on lives is a subject that permeates generations, genders groups” (Christou & Janta, 2019, p. 654). The authors of this study wrote about how objects may have a deep emotional connection to the migrant that connects a particular meaning of the object to their domestic lives. Many objects seem to evoke deep emotions connected to a past of a happy childhood. Through the objects, the migrant woman can create a continuity of their sense of home. These might include symbolic or nostalgic memories, with gifts, foods, photos, letters, and memorabilia: “migrants yearn to see, hear and touch their loved ones, but also crave the special foods, smells and tastes associated with family and places” (p. 656). Christou and Janta (2019) connected objects with foods and gardens and decorative objects that reminded migrants of their homeland culture and ethnicity. The authors compared objects to “re-membering work to being/becoming/belonging in the new host society” (p. 657). In qualitative research, the authors explored what 20 migrant women carried from their homeland in-depth semi-structured interview. Participants were all from European areas and their ages ranged from 23 to 46. Objects included “Home possessions, such as libraries, lamps, coffee machines, plants and various ethnic food items, were also shown to the researcher during those interviews which took place at participants’ homes” (p. 658). An important aspect of the interview was the understanding of how a migrant re-created a sense of home through nature and gardens, but also food and drinks (such as coffee or vodka), and objects such as lamps with one’s cultural aesthetic design.
While material objects might assist in one’s identity and sense of belonging, a person’s name could also be seen as a valuable object and precious possession. In a sociological paper called “the role and function of the name in defining the personal identity and social identity to the individual convergences in modern research” discusses the importance of names in one’s identity (Dumitrascu, 2020, p. 200). According to Dumitrascu (2020), “In November 1989, the United General Assembly adopted the Convention on the Rights of the Child '', which, aside from human rights, included the right to have a name (p. 200). According to the author, the right to a full name includes being part of society and its administrative and legal practices. Dumitrascu (2020) argues that names are “meaning-creating entities,” and without it, it remains unidentified and insignificant. By reviewing Piaget cognitive-developmental model, Dumitrascu compares one’s awareness of names of people and objects, to the development of object permanence through “symbolic thinking and language development” (p. 202). Dumitrascu explained that naming allows the individual to identify and differentiate as well as communicate where one belongs to or which group or places they reject. In the author’s words: “The name represents the words that identify and create links between individuals of the same group” (Dumitrascu, 2020, p. 205). Another aspect of the name was about one’s capacity to hold one’s biography and with that one’s understanding of where they belong in their community and social cultural environment. Lastly, Dumitrascu reviewed research that has linked self-esteem and social acceptance to one’s given name. The name is attached to the individual and it helps establish one’s sense of continuity and uniqueness in relationship to other people.
Names have also been used to strip someone from their human rights and culture (Zulu, 2020). According to Zulu, having an African name was not possible during slavery in colonialist times, and to this day there is a resistance against owning an African name. According to Zulu, as recently as 2016, the name Makeda Foluke was rejected by government officials, which the Brazilian parents who were naming the child believed came from racist practices. Zulu (2020) wrote about names of many famous leaders that were not known by their original parent given name such as Rolihlahla Mandela, who was given the name Nelson on his first school day by his teacher. Zulu (2020) also wrote about the common practice of using European names as a way to strip a person of African descent from their culture and identity. Zulu (2020) argued that it has been rare to see African Americans with African names unless when one is born of a direct African descent like Barak Obama or for the ritual of taking a new name for a religious motive like Muhammad Ali and Kareen Abdul-Jabbar. Zulu (2020) reviewed names as a way to construct one’s identity and “concretize a people’s collective memory” (p. 95). Another point on naming came from who chose the names of children born slaves and how there was a push and pull of resistance or use of power. Zulu (2020) defines 17 items of possibilities to protect the right of name and acquisition and use of an African name. Zulu (2020) wrote about the many layers of trauma, marginalization and oppression that might block someone to go through the “five stages sequence of pre-encounter, encounter immersion/immersion, internalization and internalization-commitment” in “becoming black” (p. 104). Zulu (2020) wrote that taking an African name might be confronted with internalized racism, where attitudes of racism are directed to one’s own ethnic group and family.
A recent paper on namesake of children placed the intention as a way to form bonding with fathers or to make extended family bonding beyond the mother and child unit. Another reason for naming came to maintain a certain connection to an ethnic or cultural background. The authors wrote about naming as a way to maintain the soul and virtues of deceased relatives. Other important inclinations for naming had to do with paying a tribute or memory, a religious group, integrating a child to a family or due to fashion and aesthetic taste of the time. According to the author, the use of the suffix “Jr.” had been linked to being vulnerable to abuse and mental health problems. Another curious study reviewed involved looking into the names given in a town in Massachusetts between 1640 and 1800s, where the majority of offspring were given the same name as their parents. Around 1840, individuality began to gain momentum and homage to lineage began to decline. Another study, on naming patterns between 1750 to 1925 in African American families concluded that naming had the intention to help the child to fit “into kinship network but that it was also used as a way of settling old debts or positioning for future favors from relatives” (McAndrew, 2021, p. 4). According to McAndrews, naming helped bond fathers to children and assumed providing the resources, not only for genetically linked children but adopted children as well. Therefore, naming seemed to facilitate attachment and relational bonding between family members.
Haraldsson and McLean (2021) conducted a qualitative research study about personal stories, their parents' stories and their social group with 13 participants that migrated to the US before the age of three or had at least one parent who migrated (age range 18-52). This was a way to understand the interdependency of personal and collective especially when it came to one’s identity development and continuity. The authors reviewed different instances that culture and context influence personal continuity and meaning making that creates sense of a coherent life story. The premise is that collective continuity affected one’s mental health and sense of well-being “For example, suicide rates of First Nations youth in Canada—a community that has experienced historical genocide, forced assimilation, discrimination, and intergenerational trauma—were significantly lower in communities where traditions, historical artifacts, and language were preserved” (p. 2). The method of interview protocol included three chapters: a low point, a turning point and a wisdom event in their lives, their parents’ lives and anyone else that they knew had a similar story. The interview took two to three hours. Researchers found three types of narratives: the American immigrant story (which connected with other stories), the Origin story (which connected to country of parent’s origin, which included myths politics and history), and the American ethnic minority story, which spoke about being a racial minority and the oppression and racism that came with that, which included “the dehumanization and devaluing of the human experiences of immigrants and ethnic minorities in the U.S.” (p. 9). In general, it seems that family, peers and socialization affected which type of narrative the participant engaged with and constructed a collective continuity. Authors proposed that each narrative might have been influenced in where the participant was developmentally exploring their identity and how it lands in the collective, history and larger shared story.