No, really — that is my real name, darnit!

Glendale News Press, CA
LATimes.com
June 26 2004

FROM THE MARGINS
No, really — that is my real name, darnit!

by PATRICK AZADIAN

We all have our stereotypes of what certain names should mean, and
what kind of names people should possess. It is perhaps human nature
to try to conform everything to our set of understandings, otherwise
we may feel uncomfortable or even intimidated.

My first name often evokes the question, “Hey, how did you get an
Irish name?” This particular inquiry is understandable, considering
more Americans trace their roots to the “green isle” than any other
region of the world. My curt response is often, “Well, it is actually
a Latin name. And I mean ‘Latin’ as in ancient Latium in central
Italy and not Central America.”

My initial research on the name confirmed my suspicion that it was
derived from the Latin patricius, from patres, plural of pater.
Recently a dear friend sent me a cynical note on this issue:

“Your attitude stems from your name:

patrician puh-TRISH-un,

noun:

1. A member of one of the original citizen families of ancient Rome.

2. A person of high birth; a nobleman.”

What are good friends for, right?

I also come across another type of inquiry: “What is your real name?”
Depending on my mood, I have different answers for this line of
questioning. If I have gotten off on the right side of the bed that
specific morning, the response can be as simple as, “It is Patrick,
although I should really spell it without the ‘c.’ ” And if I am
pressed with a follow-up question such as, “No, really, what is it?”,
my response can be as rude as: “What would you like my name to be?
Mohammed, Habib, Ahmet?”

Overall, I don’t mind explaining, as long as the question comes from
people whose initial experience with the name is via the Irish route.
What I was not prepared for, however, was when my Jewish Moroccan
associate asked me the same question: “Patrick, what is your real
name?” By the way, her name is Valerie! I tried not to react by a
counter question such as: “How come you don’t have a Sephardic or a
Ladino (Judeo-Spanish) name? Something more Hebrew, such as Yaffa
(beautiful), Zahava (gold) or Chaviva (beloved).

So I asked her if she had some time to go over this very important
issue.

“Yes I do, I have all the time in the world. Tell me how you got your
name.”

“Okey-Dokey.”

I was determined to make sure the story was long enough so that the
question never came up again.

When my grandfather, Sahak, settled in Iran after fleeing the
deportations from western Armenia, he eventually found time to go to
the Iranian authorities and get himself a birth certificate. The
official at the desk asked him for his last name.

“Petrossian,” Sahak replied.

“Petrossian, aye? You immigrant Armenians have too many of these
names. Petrossian, Petrossian, Petrossian! Why don’t you change it to
something else?”

“Like what?”

“Well, since you’ve fled mass murder and you are free now, why don’t
you change your last name to ‘Azad-ian.’ ”

Incidentally, the word Azad means free in Persian (the spoken
language of Iran) and Armenian, as well as many of the region’s
Indo-European languages. What a coinkidink!

“Hmmm, ‘Azadian.’ Has a nice ring to it. ‘Sahak Azadian.’ I’ll take
it.”

Years later, Mr. Azadian had second thoughts about changing his
family name, and when his first grandson was born, he was determined
to reverse the grave error. Per ancient Armenian tradition of Sahak’s
birthplace, every couple of generations, the last name of the family
reverted back to the first name of the grandfather. Sahak figured, if
he named me Petros (or Bedros), in a couple of generations our family
last name would be back to the original Petrossian. What he was not
prepared for was my mom’s fierce opposition.

So my parents, after consulting the extended Armenian dictionary,
conspired against Sahak and named me Patrik. Pronounced with “P” as
in spoon, “a” as in talk, “t” as in stalk, “r” as in car, “i” as in
chic, and “k” as in kernel. My mom had her mind set on something
“princely.” The second choice was Asbed (also “prince” in Armenian).

“Valerie, are you awake?”

“Yes, Patrik. I am with you. You still haven’t told me why it’s an
Armenian name.”

“Well, initially I thought the name entered the Armenian language, as
Rome and Armenia had close relations in ancient times. But it seems,
it was the Byzantines who introduced the term into the Armenian
vocabulary. Byzantines bestowed Armenian rulers with the title
Patrik, the most famous of whom was Vard Patrik Mamikonian, Patriarch
of Armenia in the early sixth century. From then on, the term patrik
was interchangeable with “princely.” And although the noun is not
Armenian in the absolute sense, it has Armenian memory, as well as
history.”

“I see.”

So is Patrick an Irish name? I would say so. Is it an Armenian name?
Well, I would also say so, certainly more Armenian than Hovhannes
(John), Bartoughi- meos (Bartholomew), Boghos (Paul) or Yeghsapet
(Elizabeth). But somehow, I know Bartoughi- meos would not have
elicited as many questions about my name as Patrick.

– PATRICK AZADIAN lives and works in Glendale. He is an identity and
branding consultant for the retail industry. Reach him at
[email protected].

From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress