What's in a name?

A few years ago, my Blogger account got hacked and subsequently deleted.  For  a day or so, I had no clue what had happened and kept Googling my name to see if I could bring up my Blog site. 

At the time, I was of course Whitney Hendrickson, and it was a little unsettling what instantly appeared. 

An 18-year-old girl in Colorado named Whitney Hendrickson was pumping gas into her mom's minivan as she embarked on a tour of colleges with a friend.  While standing at the tank, a truck swerved, hit the gas pump, and engulfed Whitney and the car in flames.  She was caught between the minivan and the pump as fire and smoke surrounded her.  Her best friend was left to watch and scream.

The fire department was on the scene within two minutes, and one firefighter approached as Whitney yelled for help.  He reported she was holding her face in her hands as she was swallowed by the inferno.  He attempted to save her with an extinguisher, but was ultimately told to retreat by colleagues.

This Whitney Hendrickson was an artist, an honors student, a twin, an older sibling, and people described her as "having a way about her that was divine."


The same search yielded results for the Whitney Hendrickson Cancer Facility for Women in Lexington, Kentucky.  She raised 2.5 million dollars for an over 45,000 square foot facility that provides multidisciplinary ambulatory care for women suffering from breast cancer, gynecologic cancers, and lung, hematologic, gastrointestinal and urologic cancers.  She also continues to raise funds for stroke recovery, supports exhibits at the Smithsonian Museum, funds the Kentucky Aviation Museum, and has an elementary school and high school gymnasium named after her.


Today, my son was playing on his iPad mini and Googled "Whitney Windham."  Much to my chagrin, the lamest websites in the history of the planet popped up.

First, the Whitney Wyndham Hotel in New Orleans appeared.  Fine.  I grew up 3 hours from New Orleans and spent most of the weekends of my early life there.  But, it's not even a spelling match for my name!

Second, there was this atrocity at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vyy2esvI7ew.  It's a song by this bleached-blonde Texas girl called, "Get Past Daddy."  I swear, the lyrics actually say, "I like your red truck, cute butt, but you gotta get past Daddy."  If you would like to see/hear more, go to whitwindham.com.  But seriously, this girl made me want to crawl in a hole and change my name.  The tagline of her website is, "Some girls are just born with glitter in their veins."  Awesome.  Whitney, just go start your porn career now because your lyrics and comments about glitter have already layed the foundation for a future of Jenna Jameson proportions.

Then I got a little hopeful when I saw that there was a Whitney Windham who was recently hired as a mortgage consultant at a bank in Mississippi.  See, we aren't all bad, I thought...

But the next entry was an absolutely insane mugshot of a Whitney Windham in Darlington, SC.  She is wanted for domestic violence and apparently has escaped.  Equally awesome.

What I'm trying to emphasize is there is a lot in a name.  But you cannot let it define you.  It took me until page five of Google results to encounter my own Facebook page or my Blog.  And I think I'm a pretty damned good Whitney Windham.

I'm not the girl who died tragically in Colorado.  Or the billionaire who endlessly donated to cancer research.  I'm not the former beauty queen from Texas who doesn't have two brain cells to rub together.  And I'm definitely not the lady from the trailer park who pulled some dude's hair out by the plugs. 

We may love our moniker.  We may be severely attached to what we call ourselves.  And yes, family history and ancestry are incredibly important.  But still, we shouldn't let our names define us.  We will never be the people we were named for.  Some of us won't even be the people we were when we reclaim our former or maiden names.  And that is totally ok.  It's up to us to create and sometimes recreate our own path and meaning. 

I hope that as I re-enter the professional world, I can generate an internet search result worthy of who I think this Whitney Windham really is.  But for now, I will mourn the loss of Whitney Hendrickson, accept the diversity amongst the Whitney Windhams of the world, and hope to God no one ever associates "glitter in my veins" with this Whitney.  As far as I'm concerned, what runs through this Whitney is Blackfeet blood, strength, tolerance, and an independent spirit that won't be tamed.  But I'm currently taking applications if someone would like to try.  :)