There. I said it. I'm Lyse Doucet, as if I am my name, those two words. For most us, our name is one of the few parts of our lives we don't choose for ourselves. My name is French for "soft lily," pronounced the Acadian way of New Brunswick, in eastern Canada, where I grew up.
All of our names tell stories. Moon Unit Zappa, that child of the '60s, said as a girl she dreamed of having a "normal name like Debbie, Mary or Jane." But the news in names is there's no normal anymore. Many American parents are just making up their children's names. Or they're reaching back a couple of generations. It's why the names you hear on playgrounds are the same as the ones in nursing homes. Hello, Sophie. Hello, Max. I'm Lyse.
