The Effects of Changing Names

Mrs. Brywczynski (Photo by Ruby)

My wife's maiden name was Szozda.  For a short name, many people pronounce it incorrectly.  This didn't bug her too much.  She liked her name and that's all that mattered.  In January 2009 she married me, a Brywczynski.  Although it was true that she loved me, the person, she was not in love with my last name.  In fact, she despised my name so much that she only officially changed it a couple years ago.

There were reasons for her displeasure.  As a pharmacist, she would have to change her name on her license in addition to all the other legal stuff (her insurance, drivers license, etc.).  But I believe the main reason was she just didn't want to write that long Polish name.  I mean, my dad has writers cramps (yes it's a real thing) from writing that beast down his entire life.

I assured my wife that I didn't believe or agree with the historical practice of the name change.  "I don't own you...you're still your own woman."  Clearly this was a joke.  For those of you who know my wife and I, she pretty much is the boss.  That's ok with me too.  She's way smarter and has much better judgement.

For us, the changing of my wife's last name had relatively little effect on our lives.  Yes she had to change some documents and pay some fees for a new license, and she now signs a name that has 11 letters and only one vowel in it, but she is very much the same person.  This change barely changed anything.

Name changes for birds are often inconsequential to most people.  What were you're thoughts when the Cackling Goose ceased to be a subspecies of the Canada Goose and went out on it's own?  Oh, you didn't know that happened?  And...you don't care?  I suppose I can't blame you.  Unless you're an ornithologist or really into birds, a change in the classification of a bird species is probably not a high priority.  Life is full of other things, and who has time for that stuff...especially in America?  We're always on the go go go!

But lets say you did take the time to consider the question: What's in a name?  I have noticed many bird name changes throughout my life.  All you have to do is compare a new version of Peterson's with my dad's copy from 1980 something.  Today's Common Gallinule was known as a Common Moorhen.  The Tundra Swan is listed as the Whistling Swan.  I could go on, but you get the picture.

Changes in bird names or classification of species versus subspecies dates even farther back then my dad's field guide.  During Kenn Kaufman's 1973 Big Year, listers were dealt a big blow when many species were "lumped."  For example, there used to be a White-winged, Slate-colored, and Oregon Junco prior to the 1973 change.  Now all versions are known by the broader and more inclusive name of Dark-eyed Junco.  For listers, this meant that their numbers would drop by a few birds since they couldn't count the new subspecies as full species.

Seaside Sparrow

But why is this important?  Why should anyone care?  I didn't think it was a big deal until I read Kaufman's account of the Cape Sable and Dusky Seaside Sparrows.  These birds were lumped in 1973 as being variations of the Seaside Sparrow.  These variations, however, had very localized colonies in Florida.  The Cape Sable resided in the marshes of the western everglades, while the Dusky was limited to a small patch of marshland in Titusville, Florida near Merritt Island.

Development in these two areas was in full swing during the 1970's, and the natural habitat of these Florida specialties was disappearing.  Unfortunately, there wasn't a great effort to protect them.  Even birders weren't too concerned.  They had been lumped.  The Seaside Sparrow, as whole, was a species that wasn't going away anytime soon.  There were plenty of places one could go along the coast to see them.  Listers assumed the lumping was permanent, and were content with accepting that these birds were subspecies.  Consequently, the lack of interest contributed to diminishing any enthusiasm there might have been for protecting these birds.

In the 1990's some experts were considering that the Dusky and Cape Sable Seaside Sparrows were indeed full species, and not just variations of one type of bird.  Unfortunately, as Kaufman points out in Kingbird Highway, the Dusky Seaside Sparrow became extinct sometime during the 1980's.  The Cape Sable is still hanging on, but a hurricane over south Florida could be catastrophic for the dangerously small population.

I have to admit, even for a nature lover, I am not an overly green person.  I use more paper towels then I should.  I recycle some things, but could probably do more.  I try to buy animal friendly products, but again, I could make more of an effort.  When I read about tragedies like the story of the Dusky Seaside Sparrow, it makes me want to step up my game.  I may not be able to donate money to every worthy cause, but I can support protection and conservation by volunteering and making others aware of environmental issues.  Perhaps you can do the same.  Perhaps we can save all birds regardless of what their name or classification may be.  Every living thing deserves to live, even if it's just a drab little brown bird.  Happy birding everybody!

References:

Kaufman, K. (1997). Kingbird Highway: The Biggest Year in the Life of an Extreme Birder.  New York, New York: Houghton Mifflin

Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Seaside Sparrow (website). Retrieved from http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Seaside_Sparrow/id