The Kabba Woman from Massachusetts

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“I have become all things to all people... I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.”                                                                                                                                                                      Paul, 1 Corinthians 9:22-23
 
I was 40 when I married Joseph Olajide Elewononi.  As a girl I always assumed I would take the name of my spouse, and would doodle various combinations of my name and the ones who attracted my desire in my notebook.  But by 40 I had lived with my original name for a long time and didn’t want to simply exchange Mount for Elewononi.
 
Under other circumstances I might not have changed my name at all.  Marrying an immigrant after 9/11 added a new consideration. One strategy for showing that I really meant this union was by changing my name.  My Doctor Mother had simply added her spouses’ last name to hers, so I went ahead and did likewise, filling out all manner of forms to let people know I am now Sarah Jean Mount Elewononi.
 
When our first child was on the way I asked my husband if he would like to give her an Owé first or middle name.  He said Elewononi was enough for her to deal with in American culture.  It takes patience and some humor to help others know how to spell and say our name.  My favorite advice is to say Elewononi rhymes with elbow macaroni.
 
After Grace was born Joe’s cousin Kola came to visit.  We enjoyed showing him the sights of Boston and we were glad for his rich booming voice and hearty laugh interwoven with our conversations.
 
One evening at supper Kola looked at me and declared me to be the “Kabba woman from Massachusetts.”  Joe and Kola grew up in Kabba. As Joe was heading to Syracuse, New York, his father took him aside and said he was only to marry someone from Kabba.  And sure enough, most of Joe’s siblings are married to other people from Kabba. But Joe’s adventures in America did not lead to encounters with many Africans at all, let alone Yoruba or people from Kabba.
 
When Kola called me “Kabba woman from Massachusetts”, years after Joe’s father had died, I felt delighted and appreciative.  I take it to mean that Kola sees in me some essential aspects of character that meet the family needs for connection, harmony and well-being.  I belong.
 
When has someone let you know you belong?
 
When have you broken the rules for fitting in?  How did that effect your relationships with yourself and others?
 
What aspects of your identity transcend tribe, language or nation?

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