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| Grappling With My Family’s Identity in a Post-‘Brexit’ Europe | Grappling With My Family’s Identity in a Post-‘Brexit’ Europe |
| (about 3 hours later) | |
| “Who are you?” I asked my daughter, curious how the concept of identity applied to a 5-year-old German-Welsh girl living in post-“Brexit” London. | |
| She looked at me as if I were crazy. | She looked at me as if I were crazy. |
| “I am Mali,” she said. “Mali Agnes Grace,” giving her full name. | “I am Mali,” she said. “Mali Agnes Grace,” giving her full name. |
| What else, I pressed her. | What else, I pressed her. |
| She thought hard. “Ein Mensch,” she said. A human. Then: “A mammal.” | She thought hard. “Ein Mensch,” she said. A human. Then: “A mammal.” |
| We at The New York Times recently asked women around the world to tell us about their decision to keep or change their name when they married. We heard from more than 16,000 readers — many of whom talked about how their name defined them. In a year that has challenged some hard-earned building blocks of who I am, it got me thinking about my own family. | |
| The name my daughter carries with such easy pride in many ways tells the story of Europe’s transformation from warring Continent to postnational laboratory of peace in which multiple identities, at least for some of us, have been happily layered. | The name my daughter carries with such easy pride in many ways tells the story of Europe’s transformation from warring Continent to postnational laboratory of peace in which multiple identities, at least for some of us, have been happily layered. |
| Mali is a Welsh name, a tribute to my husband’s visceral Welshness. He grew up in Cardiff, the capital of Wales; went to a Welsh-speaking school; and still frets over every rugby game with England as if it were 1282 all over again and his plucky little nation was fighting subjugation by the English crown. | |
| Agnes is a name carried by several women in my German family, not least my paternal grandmother. One of her brothers was killed during a bombing mission to England in World War I, but she welcomed two English sons-in-law into her family after World War II. | Agnes is a name carried by several women in my German family, not least my paternal grandmother. One of her brothers was killed during a bombing mission to England in World War I, but she welcomed two English sons-in-law into her family after World War II. |
| Grace is the family name handed down on my husband’s paternal English side of the family. His grandfather, a decorated officer of the British Empire, was captured by the Germans in 1940 — as his grandmother swiftly pointed out to me the first time we met. | Grace is the family name handed down on my husband’s paternal English side of the family. His grandfather, a decorated officer of the British Empire, was captured by the Germans in 1940 — as his grandmother swiftly pointed out to me the first time we met. |
| “Do you know Laufen?” she asked. “My husband was a prisoner of war there.” | “Do you know Laufen?” she asked. “My husband was a prisoner of war there.” |
| It was one of the rare moments in my life when I was acutely aware of being German. | It was one of the rare moments in my life when I was acutely aware of being German. |
| But things have changed. On June 24, I woke up to the news that Britain, my current home, is leaving the European Union. Ever since, my German identity has stopped being an afterthought. | But things have changed. On June 24, I woke up to the news that Britain, my current home, is leaving the European Union. Ever since, my German identity has stopped being an afterthought. |
| I belong to that lucky generation of Western Europeans who did not experience war and were barely touched by the Cold War. I was a child when the Berlin Wall fell, and I came of age in the 1990s, that brief vacation from history before Sept. 11. My generation studied, dated, lived and worked across borders, taking for granted the peace our grandparents had fought for and our parents had harnessed and amplified. | I belong to that lucky generation of Western Europeans who did not experience war and were barely touched by the Cold War. I was a child when the Berlin Wall fell, and I came of age in the 1990s, that brief vacation from history before Sept. 11. My generation studied, dated, lived and worked across borders, taking for granted the peace our grandparents had fought for and our parents had harnessed and amplified. |
| My mother marched for abortion rights in the 1970s, and my father was a leader in the 1968 student movement in Berlin that forced open the taboos about Germany’s Nazi past. War is not an abstract concept to him. To this day, the firecrackers on New Year’s Eve remind him of the bombs falling on Hamburg when he was 5 years old. When he reads about Aleppo, his eyes well up. | |
| The big debates of my youth centered on fine-tuning the market economy. Nationalism, nativism, fundamentalism and identity — these were concepts that belonged in the 20th century. Or so I thought. Will they now define my children’s future? What will their names and their passports mean to them when they grow up? | The big debates of my youth centered on fine-tuning the market economy. Nationalism, nativism, fundamentalism and identity — these were concepts that belonged in the 20th century. Or so I thought. Will they now define my children’s future? What will their names and their passports mean to them when they grow up? |
| When we named our children we opted for my husband’s surname, Grace. It had a nice ring to it, we thought. One European name was enough, and so, surely, was one European passport. All three children are British citizens. | When we named our children we opted for my husband’s surname, Grace. It had a nice ring to it, we thought. One European name was enough, and so, surely, was one European passport. All three children are British citizens. |
| But as 2016 winds down, given Britain’s decision to quit the European Union, I am applying for their German passports. | But as 2016 winds down, given Britain’s decision to quit the European Union, I am applying for their German passports. |
| When I married, I kept my own surname. I was 32 and had been a journalist for eight years. My name was my personal and professional identity. But when I traveled alone with my children, having a different last name from them sometimes raised questions. I eventually added my husband’s last name to my passport, although I do not use it in everyday life. | When I married, I kept my own surname. I was 32 and had been a journalist for eight years. My name was my personal and professional identity. But when I traveled alone with my children, having a different last name from them sometimes raised questions. I eventually added my husband’s last name to my passport, although I do not use it in everyday life. |
| I now find myself wishing that I had given my children my last name as well. A double surname would have been unwieldy, but it would have been European instead of just British — and it would have signaled a connection to me. | I now find myself wishing that I had given my children my last name as well. A double surname would have been unwieldy, but it would have been European instead of just British — and it would have signaled a connection to me. |
| I come from a line of strong women. This, too, is something that has been on my mind this year: Did I let them down by not giving my children my own name? | |
| My paternal grandmother, who came from a family of Swabian aristocrats in southwestern Germany, studied medicine just as German women won the right to vote. | My paternal grandmother, who came from a family of Swabian aristocrats in southwestern Germany, studied medicine just as German women won the right to vote. |
| But when she married my grandfather she had to give up her career, her noble title — and her name. | But when she married my grandfather she had to give up her career, her noble title — and her name. |
| My mother studied engineering in the 1960s. She was the first in her family to go to university and the only woman in her class. For a time, she cut her hair short and called herself “Max.” Being one of the boys, as she put it, kept the sexist jokes at bay. When she married my father, she paid five Deutschmarks for permission to hold a double name — with his name first. | My mother studied engineering in the 1960s. She was the first in her family to go to university and the only woman in her class. For a time, she cut her hair short and called herself “Max.” Being one of the boys, as she put it, kept the sexist jokes at bay. When she married my father, she paid five Deutschmarks for permission to hold a double name — with his name first. |
| By the time I got married, in France in 2007, keeping my own name was the default setting on the paperwork. | By the time I got married, in France in 2007, keeping my own name was the default setting on the paperwork. |
| My daughters do not seem to think too much about their gender. One says she wants to become a doctor. The other one a firefighter. So far being female is not a factor in their aspirations. | My daughters do not seem to think too much about their gender. One says she wants to become a doctor. The other one a firefighter. So far being female is not a factor in their aspirations. |
| My older daughter, Elena, who is 7 and has been learning about world religions, recently came home from school and announced that she was Muslim. She took off her shoes, got to her knees and pressed her forehead to the kitchen floor (facing south, but no matter). This is how you pray, she explained. | My older daughter, Elena, who is 7 and has been learning about world religions, recently came home from school and announced that she was Muslim. She took off her shoes, got to her knees and pressed her forehead to the kitchen floor (facing south, but no matter). This is how you pray, she explained. |
| (Her sister, Mali, was so impressed that she promptly told the extended family. Asked whether he was Muslim, too, her 5-year-old Welsh cousin replied: “No. I’m vegetarian.”) | (Her sister, Mali, was so impressed that she promptly told the extended family. Asked whether he was Muslim, too, her 5-year-old Welsh cousin replied: “No. I’m vegetarian.”) |
| Six months after the Brexit vote, my children’s world remains effortlessly inclusive. We are all mammals. I speak German to them, their father Welsh. Ask them where they are from and they will tell you “Brixton,” our bustling colorful neighborhood in south London. Their friends’ parents are Portuguese, Indian, Catalan, Ethiopian, Nigerian and occasionally even English. | Six months after the Brexit vote, my children’s world remains effortlessly inclusive. We are all mammals. I speak German to them, their father Welsh. Ask them where they are from and they will tell you “Brixton,” our bustling colorful neighborhood in south London. Their friends’ parents are Portuguese, Indian, Catalan, Ethiopian, Nigerian and occasionally even English. |
| But the mood in Britain is changing. And in subtle ways it is changing even at our school, which is in a part of London that overwhelmingly voted to remain in the European Union. This year, an email from the head teacher went around, asking parents to refrain from discussing Brexit in the yard. Passions were running high among some parents. | But the mood in Britain is changing. And in subtle ways it is changing even at our school, which is in a part of London that overwhelmingly voted to remain in the European Union. This year, an email from the head teacher went around, asking parents to refrain from discussing Brexit in the yard. Passions were running high among some parents. |
| The children, though, are mostly unaware of how the world is turning upside down around them. When my husband explained that many Britons wanted to leave Europe, our older daughter was baffled. “Where do they want to go?” she asked. “Africa?” | The children, though, are mostly unaware of how the world is turning upside down around them. When my husband explained that many Britons wanted to leave Europe, our older daughter was baffled. “Where do they want to go?” she asked. “Africa?” |