Karen

One of my fondest memories is that of seeing little two-year-old Karen sneaking a peek while we watched TV with her parents.  She had been “put to bed,” or so everyone thought. But when her dad went to the kitchen for a snack during a commercial break (that’s when we took snack and bathroom breaks back then), he spied her in the hallway. I had already seen that cherubic face, cupped in the palms of her little hands. She was lying on the floor, gazing at the 24-inch black-and-white TV screen; safely shielded behind the hall doorway from her parents’ sight . I didn’t dare rat her out!

The scene was too precious; it burned into my brain. Maybe it was because we had just learned we were now expecting our first child; I exulted in the innocence I saw in Karen’s face, gazing in upon our adult halcyon moment. Never mind her little TV sneak, she never in her entire life sneaked even a jelly bean . Karen grew up to be a magnificent woman; a mom, and scientist.

It really rancors me that the name “Karen” has become, these days, something of an evil epithet.  Robin Queen, Professor of Linguistics  and Germanic Languages and Literatures, University of Michigan, thinks Social Media is partly the blame; it very well may be the means by which the name Karen soared into villainous vituperation; thus becoming the the label for an officious, entitled, white woman. It seems to have started when a white woman, (not even named Karen!), called the police on a birder, a black man, in Central Park, New York. However, it has become an easy handle basically, for subjectively objectionable behavior. 

In this case, I immediately see at least two things gone wrong: 

1. There seems to be a caustic collision of civility in social interactions these days. Kindness seems to have evaporated among social interaction. 
2. This issue has become a true disservice to a noble name. Your name is the only one you will ever have.  Even if legally you have it changed, still it was yours once.

I Love the name Karen. “Pure” is what the name Karen means, I have relatives named Karen. I have friends named Karen. The wife of one of my favorite pastors is named Karen. And, of course, there is that little-two-year-old-now-grown-up-Karen. The origin of the name Karen is a Danish variation of Katherine. AND. My granddaughters’-name is Katherine. So There!!! The writer of Proverbs reminds us, “A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold.” A person’s name should ever be besmirched.

If anything good comes of the COVID-19 Pandemic, I pray that some good could be that of providing a cure for our crushed civility. And just in time. I thrill at seeing many calm, generous acts happening in neighborhoods, — in traffic (Yes, I have seen even that!) in lines awaiting their turn, neighbors piling up resources and cheerful (even humorous) notes on lawns, in doorways, and driveways; anonymous good deeds done; paying it forward at Starbucks!!! We’re all in this together, so why not reach for the Joy in the Journey!!?

And. I still cherish that mental image, early on burned into my memory; two -year-old Karen, happily, and unseen, watching TV, her cherubic face propped on her tiny hands.