“ Names have power” Rick Riordan (The Lightening Thief)
She was always going to be ‘Winsome’ , the curious girl who inhabited my head for a long time before I wrote her into existence. Maybe it was the alliteration, or the fact that the name itself represents a kind of innocence and lightness - wherever she came from, she was simply there. She was Winsome, she was so clear in my imagination, and she was born wondering.
From “The Wonder of Winsome’ by Kath Murdoch. illustrated by Sharyn Madder (2021)
Since publishing the book last year I have had so many delightful conversations with children about it. One of the first questions I hear is “Where did her name come from?” or ‘Why did you call her that?” It seems that the name itself provokes wondering – it’s a welcome, albeit unexpected, outcome of publishing the story almost a year ago. These questions have led to some beautiful conversations about names and how writers create their characters and how the name helps bring the person alive in your mind and, hopefully, in your readers’ minds too.
Ultimately, a writer hopes to connect with their readers in some way. I am fortunate to work regularly in schools and have children and teachers talk to me about the way they feel about the story - but there has been one, quite different response I will never forget -one outcome of writing this book I could never have predicted and one gift that Winsome quietly gave, simply because she was called Winsome.
……………….
One warm summer’s day earlier this year, when the streets of inner Melbourne remained empty and the doors of the magnificent state library were closed to the public, the staff continued to work with their ever-growing collection – receiving, cataloguing and shelving new books. On this particular day, a staff member was assigned to the children’s book section and busily began the process. Working her way through the new stack of titles, she picked up ‘The Wonder of Winsome’ and found herself, for the first time, seeing her name on the cover of a book. Her response to that moment held such significance, she wrote to me:
“ Holding the book for the first time a rather emotional moment for me...I have never seen another book with my name in it- I would buy books for my children with their names in them but I have never had one of my own. I was teased a lot at school because of my name (Win some, lose some, Winnie the Pooh) and even now as a 54 year old, I have at least one conversation a week about it with lots of people questioning it or making comments about my 'strange name'. I love your book for many reasons...I looked very similar to 'Winsome' at that age (same haircut, same face) and I am also very curious by nature (a self-confessed 'bookaholic', and I love study...I already have two degrees and other various certificates and course completions and am just about to embark on yet another course...). Thank you for writing your beautiful book.”
A couple of weeks later, I headed to the state library (now tentatively open to the public) with a copy of the book tucked under my arm, eager to meet Winsome herself. It was a strangely emotional moment.
Sitting in the glorious ‘dome’ room in which I’d spent so many hours reading and writing as a university student, the ‘real life’ Winsome told me a little more about her own story. As she spoke, I was reminded of the hidden power of names – of the ways we see ourselves in relation to the ways others see us and of the identities we attach to our names. I myself, spent my primary school years as Kathleen. The name my family called me and the name my friends called me were one and the same. Perhaps as a reflection of our need to forge a separate identity in our teens, I became ‘Kathy’ for several years in high school until a teacher I absolutely adored (and who helped me see myself as a writer) called me Kath. From then on, I was Kath. Our names can signify so much about the relationship we have with others and even with ourselves. Certain friends and family still call me Kathleen (and it would be odd if they didn’t) but when someone calls me ‘Kathy’ it jars … it’s more than simply not my name, it’s not ME. It’s not who I am. For my new ‘real life’ Winsome, seeing her name used in such a celebratory and positive way seemed to signify a shift in how she could see herself – how she could choose to see, and feel, her beautiful name.
Winsome and Winsome …
When I work in classrooms, I insist the children have name tags. I know the power of using their names. It is an instant bridge builder, a show of respect, a force for inclusivity and an opportunity to connect to culture. Our names do indeed, have power – the power to help us feel seen and loved and the power to be used as weapons of indifference (when they are forgotten or not used) or even worse, humiliation. Talking to Winsome that day reminded me of the inextricable link between our names and our identity and how important it is for us to be reminded of that as educators. When we talked, Winsome said she felt a kind of ‘reclaiming’ of the name with which he had had such a conflicted relationship. And in reclaiming our names, we can also begin reclaim the self that may have once felt unseen or misunderstood.
Among my favourite inquiries has long been to offer learners an opportunity to investigate their own names – the origin, meaning, cultural significance, and to share their learning with others which, in turn, can help contribute to the development of a strong, connected community.
I remain so grateful to whatever it was that brought the name Winsome to me. This little girl I manifested onto the page whose name held more power than I could have imagined.
How have the power of names found their way into your teaching and learning experiences?
Just wondering …
(With thanks to ‘the real life Winsome’ who so generously gave me permission to share this story.)