you heard that right

He is hunched over the printer they have set up for the Allied Media Conference, a woman hovering at close distance, waiting to copy papers in hand. He knows I am waiting to register. Glancing up at me, he pulls out a card catalog. "What's your last name?"

"Peace." I say it with a slight, slight preliminary pause of hesitation. Some days it just doesn't sound right. This is one of those days.

He turns his attention to the catalog, shifting presumably to the P section, fingers at work. Then he considers something, and looks at me, really looks at me for the first time. He blinks. "How do you spell that?"

I spell it for him. He blinks again. The woman with the papers grins an open-mouth grin, then asks, "Is that a last name or an acquired name?" She has me in her sights.

No one believes you can have the last name Peace. It's not impossible, I looked it up on Google. But it's rare enough that it draws curiosity, perhaps suspicion. When I first walked into Grace Lee Boggs' home, the very first things she said was, "So is your last name really Peace?!" And I knew that was intentional. I knew she wanted to know the truth, whether I was truthful. The hard thing about choosing a name for yourself is that you can wear it like a disguise. People don't see you so much as your deceit. And it can come back to bite you.

Later on in the evening, Grace said, "Now tell me what your actual last name is," in this particular air that simply demands compliance. And I told her, and it was a relief of sorts. But only temporary.

To name, to define, these are political, emotional, social, spiritual decisions. It makes a very big difference whether you call it God or G_d or Allah or just Him or Her or you refuse to name at all. It's a big difference to call her Sonya or Son or Sis, or to call that person across the street baby or cutie or shawty or bitch or ma'am or 'you' or nothing at all. Or whether you say "police brutality and violence is a serious issue in our community" or "the pigs are beating on our heads every single day out here". You learn your voice and your perspective and your agency and your language by how you name. And I suppose the good, comforting thing is when people hear you right. That's always nice.

And then some people won't settle, and they'll ask, and you're in their sights, and whatever solidness was resting in your decision has dissolved. You rush to defend the name. You let go of it hastily. You juggle, you catch, you roll it away and tease it back. You deal. You just deal.