But one runs into some problems when one has this name, as this week's Torah portion reminds me. This week, we read about what has not-so-subtly been termed The Rape of Dina, yet another episode in the epically dysfunctional family saga that is Genesis. There's been a lot of scholarship on whether it actually was a rape, or what the character of Dina was, or what lessons we're meant to draw from the characters' actions and reactions and all that, much of which is fascinating and some of which is flaky post-feminist grot (see The Red Tent for the overlapping set). Frankly, none of that makes a bit of difference since all most people associate with the name is the rape thing.
I know that this isn't not the sort of thing that tends to come up in your usual cocktail party conversation, but still, this isn't the most flattering kind of story to have associated with one's identity. Picture this: little me, in my Hebrew school class, learning about Bible stories. I'm surrounded by kids with names like Joshua and Rachel and Rebecca and Benjamin, and everyone's talking about the stories associated with their names. Oh, you're named after a matriarch, and you were a high priest, and so on. "Ooh, what about me?" I ask, innocently, excited to learn more about my illustrious namesake.
"Well," my teacher begins, slowly, "Dina was the only daughter of Jacob. She was Joseph's sister."
"Wow," I say. I'm kinda jazzed by the whole "only-daughter" thing; it makes me sound special. "What did she do? What happened to her?"
"Er...umm...ask your parents. So, does anyone have questions about the homework?"
Since then, of course, I've made my peace with the whole rape thing. As I said, it's not the sort of thing that tends to come up very much, and when it does, it actually tends to make for good conversation. And at this point I'm more grateful for my name's uniqueness than I am puzzled by the many interpretations of my name's story.
Just don't get me started on its spelling.
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