Moon, Sun, Freedom: Artist Names for Peace

How many of us actually like our names? My own father, despite scoffing at his parent’s poor taste, always presents himself with his given name of Wayne. Rarely do we stop to consider, what would I choose for myself if I could?

Salvadoran parents give their children more wiggle room with their names. They get four: two first, two last. A given María Elena, for example, can introduce herself as María, Elena, María Elena, Malena or Mari depending on her mood. Moreover, during the civil war (1980-1992) guerrilla fighters and their families invented names for themselves to protect their identities from being discovered by the murderous Salvadoran army. Today these guerillas veterans alternate between their nom de guerre and their given first or second name, all which makes it very difficult to remember the names of twenty people that presented me the first time as Jose or Tomasa and the second as Salvador or Santos.

I’ve always been fascinated with names, ever reading Anne of Green Gables, where the heroine laments her bland name and creates for herself an alternate identity as Cordelia. My name was boring too! Once I started reading poetry and found that Pablo Neruda had actually been born “Neftalí Reyes Basoalto” and Gabriela Mistral’s parents baptized her as Lucila de María del Perpetuo Socorro Godoy Alcayaga (whoa) I decided to take the plunge. I started signing my work Madeleine Breton in honor of the surrealist poet. In El Salvador, jealous of all my friends with their flexible name situations, I christened myself Jennifer Azucena in honor of Monseñor Romero, the Salvadoran martyr born on August 15th, the day of Saint Azucena.

In my first day of the theatre workshop I attend at the University of Central America, our teacher had us go around the circle and say our names . Once we had finished, she said, “Good. That’s the name your parents gave you. Now pick your artist’s name. It can be a childhood name, a name you’ve always loved, something that identifies you with your inner actor. Now present yourselves again.” Brilliant.

I decided to bring this to our workshops ABC (Art, Wellbeing and Creativity) at FUNDAHMER. The first day, I asked them to go around the circle and say their names. Rolled eyes. “ Come on Jenny, “We work together every day!”
“Great.” I said, “That’s your name outside of our ABC workshops. Now pick your artist name.” I was terrified that they all would refuse, but as we went around the circle again, they beamed as they introduced themselves as “Luz(Light), Luna (Moon), Mar (Sea), Libertad (Freedom), Nube Gris (Gray Cloud), Mariposa (Butterfly), Kamila, Charrango (A Peruvian guitar), Campanilla (Morning Glory), Linda (Pretty). We drew portraits of our artist selves, and made colored nametags which we wear each time we meet as a group.

Our recent challenge has been naming our group. We’ve narrowed it down to two: Aroma Natural (Natural Aroma) and Baúl de Los Tesoros (Treasure Trove). Unfortunately, during our Wednesday meeting, 6 voted Aroma and the other 6 Baúl. I’ll keep you posted on which Mar (Sea) chooses once he returns from his conference in Guatemala.

Because our ABC workshops are held in our office, our artist names help us to separate our work space from our art space: the one place where my colleagues can fully detach themselves their grueling non-profit work schedule (6-7 days a week, 9- 10 hours a day), and responsibilities taking care of their kids or aging parents. With each meeting, it becomes easier and easier to incorporate our inner artists into our repertoire of identities, allowing us to live and work more creatively in our fight for social justice in El Salvador.