What's in a Name?

My family can trace our roots back to Germany, Poland, Wales, Austria, and France among other countries. Other than knowing the names of those five countries, I've never actually put much thought into my ancestry. In fact, I've never asked my parents what the origin of my last name is, but after several people asking me if it is French I just assumed it was so.

This is not to mean that I don't care about my family, our history, or my last name. I've grown up taught that my last name is one of the biggest values in life, not only to myself but to my entire family. Disgracing yourself isn't just a blow to you, but also to everyone who carries the same last name as you. The same goes for bringing pride and respect. If you are a successful and respectable person, those who are related to you will carry that reputation with them.

I've seen the positive side of this in one instance during my life. My late grandfather used to own a house on a very small island in Maine, with a population of 341. In a small place like that, it fits the stereotypical "everybody knows everybody" small town. On my first visit there the summer before my freshman year, I was not expecting this to be true on my first visit to the only grocery store on the island. When I went to pay for the purchase at the counter, the clerk was intrigued as he had never seen me before. I told him who I was and he responded with "Oh, you're Clark's (my father) son." This took me completely by surprise (Well, that and his New England accent. Apparently I was "Clahhk's son"). This man was a childhood friend of my father's, and because of that I was well received by him from the recognition that we are related.

As far as history of my name, there's only one family story that I have ever known. According to my grandfather, the reason that my middle name is Clark, as well as my father and my cousin's first name is Clark, is because we are descended from William Clark of Lewis and Clark. I've never actually investigated this (although we aren't the only family who has this tradition), but it's a piece of me that I can always relate to my grandfather. Even though he passed away three years ago, I still carry that part of him with me, as a constant reminder of who I am and the family before me that I represent. While the story may not be true, the name that my grandfather passed down to me is still very real, and that is the reputation that I must uphold.

My last name may be LaGanke, but I only ever get to see my extended family on my father's side very rarely. The family that I get to see the most often, and that I feel closer to, is my mother's family. During or after many of these visits with them, I often feel like I am "two". I feel more connected to my mother's family, but I am separated by the name barrier. I know that once we are grown we will separate and grow apart. This is natural, and I've already seen it begin to happen, but maybe it wouldn't be as likely if we shared the same last name.