Anonymous wrote:I don’t give it a second thought. Honestly. My parents are Sephardic Jews and they named my little brother Ryan. You wouldn’t believe how many other Ryan’s there are at our shul.
Anonymous wrote:I cringe (and definitely judge the stupid parents) when I meet someone who named their child something from someone's culture.
Anonymous wrote:I like to chime in to these threads of cultural appropriation to remind everyone that people may have connections to a culture even though their external appearance does not make it obvious.
We are a multicultural and multiethnic family and gave our children names from all our family cultures (each grandparent chose a name from his or her country of origin).
Outside the naming department, I grew up in multiple countries due to my parents' work, and have a particular affinity for one of them, even though it's neither of my parents' countries, or my country of birth (see, I have to make all these distinctions). I love everything about that country, learned all the traditional songs, the dances, the myths, had the clothing and everything. Here it would be called cultural appropriation, since I don't look the part. But it's not. I love this country and for a while considered it my own.
Long-winded way of saying: do whatever the heck you want.
Anonymous wrote:I don’t give it a second thought. Honestly. My parents are Sephardic Jews and they named my little brother Ryan. You wouldn’t believe how many other Ryan’s there are at our shul.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I like to chime in to these threads of cultural appropriation to remind everyone that people may have connections to a culture even though their external appearance does not make it obvious.
We are a multicultural and multiethnic family and gave our children names from all our family cultures (each grandparent chose a name from his or her country of origin).
Outside the naming department, I grew up in multiple countries due to my parents' work, and have a particular affinity for one of them, even though it's neither of my parents' countries, or my country of birth (see, I have to make all these distinctions). I love everything about that country, learned all the traditional songs, the dances, the myths, had the clothing and everything. Here it would be called cultural appropriation, since I don't look the part. But it's not. I love this country and for a while considered it my own.
Long-winded way of saying: do whatever the heck you want.
My son is blue eyed and blonde haired and named Alejandro.
Anonymous wrote:Yes, I’d never say anything out loud but it’s a little bit of an eye roll from me. Every single person I know who did this though also does a bunch of other crunchy nonsense that generates eye rolls. It’s definitely a type.