the "real kaen", part 2

in addition to my birthday, i've also tried changing my last name. although not "officially" or "legally" (yet?), i have come up with a far superior last name.

"but kaen, we love you the way you are!!"

yeah yeah yeah. but is it really me? gather 'round kiddies, let me tell you a strange and interesting story.

when i was still a fairly young thing, the government of Canada changed a pretty significant law. previously, when a First Nations (or what the government still likes to call "Indian") woman married a non-"Indian" man, she lost her "Indian" status. became white, i guess? which whatever eh - you are who you are, no matter what the government calls you.. sure. except we're talking about losing out on the "freebies" (as the idiots call them) - the repayments our government offers First Nations people in exchange for having robbed so much of their land, lives, history, culture and dignity. so when the law changed and those women could "regain" their status, it was kind of a big deal.

well my gramma (from the Ojibwe nation) married a whitey. when my dad discovered she was now, again, First Nations, he decided to look into what that meant for him and his children. he had no idea what he was getting into...

some things were not a surprise: his real father had died before he was born. (or so the story goes. fact is, my gramma never talked about him which breaks my heart in many ways.) some things were a bit shocking: his step-father had never legally adopted him. so when he ordered his birth certificate, he discovered that the step-father's last name, which donned all his ID, was not his real last name. his legal last name was actually his mother's maiden name. my dad actually had to legally change his name so that it matched all his ID and information.

so technically, my last name shouldn't have even been what it is. for that reason alone, i feel no particular connection to it. but even more significantly, it belongs to an EVIL, terrible, horrific, awful, ugly-souled, horrible man (this would be the step-father, in case i've lost you), whose legacy i don't want to carry or honour, and with whom i don't want to be connected in any way, shape or form. AT ALL.

hold on - it gets strange.

as it happens, we eventually discovered that this name that i bear isn't even my evil step-grandfather's. the story is muddled and unclear. what we do know is that at some point in his scarred and sketchy youth, he turned his back on "Robertson" (his real last name) and "borrowed" (stole?) his aunt's boyfriend's ID and assumed it and its name for the remainder of his life. was it to pass as old enough to work the railroads? was it to run from the law? the mind reels. i know i have a flair for the dramatic, but believe me when i say without exaggeration, this man was capable of despicable, disgusting, horrible things.

so then, other than that it's a neat little fucked-up story, what does my legal last name mean to me? it carries an evil and abusive history, perpetuating the chosen identity of someone history should be lucky enough to forget.

what i chose instead to do is ask a bunch of my closest friends to try to describe me in 5 words (preferably adjectives). i then collected the responses, found recurring themes, and in keeping with my french heritage, translated the words into french, morphed them all together, and came up with Valoise.

unlike the "new" birthday, which i've already grudgingly conceded, this new last name is something i refuse to give up. some day, i hope to legally change my last name. it is, i firmly believe, a better representation of "the real kaen."