"The Woman Who Lost Her Names" by Nessa Rapoport

This story was more difficult for me to understand seeing as I am nearly completely ignorant on the topic of Judaism. Also, the way that the story unfolded seemed rushed and I never felt myself develop a personal appreciation for the characters or, the plot in general. Fortunately these aspects of the short story were not a complete hindrance in deciphering some meaning from the tale. The focus was on names and the meaning they have in certain contexts. The main character was a woman who began her life as Sarah Josephine, named for her grandmother and uncle. When she reached kindergarten her name was changed to Sally so she wouldn’t stand out amongst her classmates. “The girls in her class had radios, then TVs, then nose jobs and contact lenses. They grew more graceful in their affluence, and she grew a foot taller than all of them, early. There were many blond girls in her class each year, and she’d stare at their fair delicate arms whose hair was almost invisible” (Rapoport, p.2). This says to me that her Jewish ancestry was something uncommon in her school environment and the change of her name was most likely correlated with this desire to mask her heritage, and with that a name is lost and a part of her identity is brought into question.
As she grows older she develops a strong desire to leave America for Israel, presumably because her families strong beliefs have permeated her with a hope to truly belong and what better place than her native land. She marries her first cousin Yakov Halevi who has himself been stripped of one name for another through matters of circumstance. The relationship between these two characters was interesting. At first he seems to be the one who has expectations beyond his tradition. He is a poet and has an innocent, open-minded appreciation of America and his bride. Sarah adores him, enough to stay in America for some time beyond her wishes, as well as once again giving up her name and accepting Yosefah as a replacement.
When the couple finally moves to Jerusalem, the tables seem to turn in the couples viewpoints. Suddenly the husband seems to be the one conforming to cultural and traditional expectations whilst the wife is obviously struggling with her identity in a way. It seemed to me like she began to suffer the ‘grass is always greener syndrome’. The description of her life in this place is far from the fantasies she entertained of this holy land in her mind as a child in America. Even when she gives birth, she is crowded and rushed from her bed in an undignified way that seems harsh compared to U.S. standards. Sarah wants to name the child Ayelet Hashachar, meaning: the dawn star. “Yakov smiled over her, indulgent. ‘This is not a name’ (Rapoport, p.7). Tradition seems to be victorious over ambition in this conclusion. Sarah sought her whole life to fit in and when she ended up where she thought she should be, she continued to defy her environment in her wishes. The ending was a bit unsatisfactory for me in its abruptness.
Overall, the message is one of maintaining an individual nature. Even though Sarah lost her own names and still managed to hang on to pieces herself, she still puts immeasurable stock in the fact that the child’s name she chose could be lost and she will end up repeating a cycle. Names are only words and it is the context in which they are used or given that places meaning upon them. This is the message I took away with me from this story.