The young lady had been at Blue Monarch for only a short time when she went into labor. Once again, I found myself in the hospital with the mom of a new baby, filling in where one might expect her mother to stand. I don’t remember the specific reasons this woman’s mother was missing in action that day, but I assume it was the usual. She was probably in active addiction, and either couldn’t or wouldn’t be present for such an important moment.
After settling back in her hospital room, the nurse appeared with a clipboard and asked, “So, what’s the baby’s name?”
With absolutely no hesitation, the mom looked up and replied, “Montesuvius Daeschon.” (Pronounced MON-TUH-SOO-VEE-US DAY-SHAWN)
"The baby's name is what?!" I looked at the nurse, lifted my finger and said, “Could you give us a minute?”
“Are you sure about that? He won’t be able to say or spell his name until he’s in the third grade. Even his teachers won’t be able to pronounce it. It could cause him to be picked on by other children. Where did you even come up with a name like that?”
“In jail. My cell mates and I came up with it, and I like it.”
Well, she was pretty insistent, but I encouraged her to come up with a name that had some significance. Was there a family name? Something that had special meaning?
She finally settled on “William.” Her dad’s name was William, and she grew up on Williams Street. Perfect. His name would be William.
After William and his mom returned to Blue Monarch, her other four children came for their first visit. (She didn’t have custody of them at the time.) As she introduced me to each child, I began to grasp what I had done to poor William.
All four children had exotic names like Montesuvius Daeschon - just as difficult to say and spell. And then I realized, even the mom’s name was the name of a continent with just one letter changed, emphasizing the middle syllable instead of the first.
What had I done? I had ultimately created the very scenario I was trying to prevent. William could potentially become an outcast in his own family, being the only one with a simple name.
This was early on in my Blue Monarch journey and thankfully I learned a valuable and humbling lesson that day. I was inflicting my own preferences on this mom when I had absolutely no right to do so. Just because it was more familiar to me did not mean it was better. And I’m ashamed to say, my interference showed a lack of respect, which I deeply regret.
Since that day I have heard hundreds of names at Blue Monarch that are difficult to say and even harder to spell - yet I honor each one. Sometimes I get excited to hear a name that is easy to say and sounds familiar - only to discover the spelling is totally unexpected and near impossible to remember so I keep a folder on my desk with all the names as a quick reference.
One day I decided to dig a little deeper, so I asked some moms at Blue Monarch to help me understand this phenomenon. The answer was pretty simple. “I wanted my child to be special with a name no one else had.”
If there is one phrase I hear more than any other, it is, “I have no self-confidence.” But as I listen to personal stories and testimonies, this is no mystery.
“I was molested by my mother’s boyfriend at the age of six.”
“My grandfather (who abused me) said I was so ugly, I would always have to sell my body to get by.”
“I was pregnant by my stepfather at the age of thirteen, but my mother wouldn’t believe me.”
It’s no wonder there is such low self-esteem, and even self-loathing. How does one suffer debilitating trauma and multiple attacks on self-worth yet walk around with pride? So, it’s like that line in the movies, “It’s too late for me - but save yourself!” I will always be worthless, but my child will be unique and special.
If we were to take a baseline measurement when our families walk through our door, some would fall into a negative range for confidence. Therefore, our goal is not simply sobriety and recovery. We work to lift up every woman and child, emphasize their strengths and unique gifts, celebrate their accomplishments, and build them as high as we possibly can before they leave our campus for the outside world. The moms - and kids - develop a deep desire to become better and healthier in every aspect of who they are. They enjoy discovering who they never knew they could become. As the mother becomes stronger and more confident, her children do as well. It’s contagious.
Last week I had a vivid illustration of this. A boy who lives with us, one who has struggled with managing his behavior, wrote this heartfelt paper at school. The assignment was, “If I was going to the Wizard of Oz, I would ask for...”
“I would ask for help for my grandpa’s cancer to go away and his blindness and my mom to be a better mom and my heart to be better kindness so I can be helpful and loving to others around me.”
So, if you ask me, that’s one special kid - regardless of his name. And I suspect someone way better than the Wizard of Oz heard his heart.
"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." Psalm 139:14 (NIV)
