Finding Your Indigenous Name

When our language was stolen from us in exchange for Spanish, our indigenous names were also stolen from us. Although there are exceptions today with some ingienous names still being used in Mexico such as Cuauhtemoc, Xochitl, and Citlalli. Taking an indigenous name is just one way that we can rebuild our culture. The naming ceremony was a very important ceremony that should be used for the next generations. As for our people who were born under the influence of colonization and who therefore lack indigenous names, there are several options. The first option is to take the name your parents given to you and translate it into Nahuatl or another indigeous language. When naming children, most parents research the meaning of the name beforehand. It is thereore a simple matter of discovering what your birth name means. Here is an example: Virginia comes from the Latin name Verginius which means young maiden. In Nahuatl, Ichpokatzin translates to young maiden. Virginia and Ichpokatzin are thus equivalent and you are not taking away from what your parents wanted to name you. The second option is to find a name that describes your interests or personality. A person who is strong willed may consider naming themselves Chichiltik (he/she who grows strong) while a person who blushes often might consider the name Chichilehui (he/she who blushes). Someone who is opiniated and enjoys debating might consider the name Tlanehnemilia (he/she who exercises judgement). The third option would be to dedicate your name to something related to Mexicayotl to demonstrate you have dedicated your life to decolonization and empowerment. One example is Olin Tezcatlipoca, founder of the Mexica Movement. His name says he is deidicated to the movement and also self awareness. I chose my own indigenous name after I became fascinated with the nine levels of Mictlan. In one of the levels while the dead person is traveling, a wind of obsidian blows. In the excerpt by Jacques Soustelle below it is mentioned that names were depicted by pictographs. This is what my indigenous name looks like in a pictograph:

Itzli Ehecatl

The Naming Ceremony

The following excerpt is from Pages 145-146, The Essential Codex Mendoza by Frances F. Berdan and Patricia Rieff Anawalt

Naming
The gloss on the upper register of folio 57r states that the four rosettes represent four days, after which the midwife took the re¬cently born infant to be bathed. There is a dotted line that leads from the cradle to the rosettes and then on to the midwife, who holds the naked baby. All these connected images have to do with the naming of the child.
Prior to that ceremony, however, both the name and naming day had to be determined. This was a matter of primary import because children were named for their day signs. A great deal of effort went into investigating the nature of a baby's natal sign; it was thought to exert a powerful, lifelong influence as a result of the specific bundle of fate each particular day carried. In short, it was believed that an individual's fate was subject to predestination. Therefore, as soon as an infant was born, men skilled in divina¬tion—the tonalpouhqui—were called in to ascertain whether the child had arrived under a good or bad sign. This important act was accomplished by consulting a tonalamatl, a divinatory manual,6 to determine the burden of good or ill borne by the natal day.7 If the sign was considered fortunate, the child could be named the next day. But if the sign of the birth day proved to be calamitous, a better sign in the four following days was sought, one that could correct the unfortunate influence of the principal signs. Thus the appearance, on folio 57r, of four glyphs representing days appro¬priately placed above the baby in his cradle.
As the commentary on folio 56v states, the naming itself was carried out not by a soothsayer, but by the midwife. She is depicted on folio 57r as an old woman with wrinkled skin and gray hair. The ceremony, which took place at daybreak with the midwife fac¬ing to the west, consisted of two parts, the ritual washing of the child and the actual naming.8
On folio 57r, the midwife holds the naked baby in one hand and gestures with the other toward the waiting water container atop a mat of rushes. The Spanish gloss identifies these as "the rushes with their little, earthen pan of water." Fray Diego Duran, another of the prolific sixteenth-century missionary chroniclers, states that the children of nobles were washed in special basins for four days in a row, whereas those of the lower classes were simply bathed in streams.9
by four arrows, a carpenter's awl, a featherworker's obsidian knife, a scribe's brush, and a goldsmith's tool. Below the rush mat are de¬picted symbols of the household tasks that await a baby girl, all mentioned in the Spanish gloss: a broom, a spindle full of cotton thread spun from the attached fillet of raw cotton, and a reed workbasket for the storage of spinning and weaving equipment.
To the right of the mat of rushes sit three small boys. The Span¬ish gloss states that these are the three boys who call out the name of the recently born infant. They face a bowl filled with parched maize kernels, a dish traditionally associated with the naming cere¬mony. Footprints leading in a counterclockwise direction surround the mat, indicating the direction the midwife walks as she performs the bathing and naming rituals.
Sahagun reports that when the child was bathed, the water was placed on his or her tongue and breast and on the crown of the head, to the accompaniment of ritual prayers. The baby was then offered up four times to the heavens—no doubt to the cardinal di¬rections—each time with special incantations. If the newborn was a boy, the tiny instruments of war were then presented to him; a baby girl received the aforementioned symbols of womanly pur¬suit. It was at this point that the child was presented with its care¬fully chosen name, and the young boys in attendance then ran forth through the neighborhood carrying the naming-ceremony gift of food, parched corn and a stew of beans, and shouting out the baby's name. The speech scrolls in front of the three little boys' mouths refer to this portion of the ceremony.10

The following excerpt is from pages 164-167, Daily Life of the Aztecs: On the Eve of the Spanish Conquest by Jacques Soustelle

As soon as the birth was known in the family and the locality, or even for the great families as far off as in other cities, the complex ceremonial of the 'salutations' began. The old women of the family thanked the midwife solemnly, and she answered in a speech full of imagery. Chosen orators, usually old men, went to greet the new-born child, and other old men appointed for the purpose, answered with long discourses.3
The Aztecs' taste for rhetoric found satisfaction in endless pompous dissertations upon the favour of the gods and the mysteries of fate. Times beyond number the baby was compared to a necklace, to a jewel of precious stones, to a rare feather. The child's mother was extolled, she 'who was the peer of the goddess Ciuacoatl Quilaztli'. They boasted about the glorious history of the family. If the father were a dignitary or a lawyer he was reminded of 'his office and its great importance and its great weight in the courts and in the government of the state'. 'Lord,' they said to him, 'it is truly your image, your likeness: you have a scion - you have flowered!' From time to time (and this was one of the obligatory figures in fine language) the orator would excuse himself for going on too long. 'I am afraid of wearying you and of giving you pains in your heads and your stomachs.' Then he would go on ^vith renewed vigour. Those who spoke on behalf of the family would return thanks in an equally garrulous manner. At last those who had come to greet the baby gave their presents: there would be an many as twenty or forty cloaks or suits of clothes among people of the ruling class; but among the plebeians the presents would only be food and drink.
During these festivities, the father would send for the tonalpouhqui, or soothsayer, a specialist in the study of the sacred books. This person, who was offered a meal, as well as his fee of cloth and turkeys, began by asking the exact moment of the birth, so that he might decide what sign the child was born under. He then consulted his tonalamatl to find the sign of the day of the birth and the set of thirteen days to which it belonged.
If the sign of the day were considered good and fortunate, he could say 'Your son is born under a good sign. He will be a lord or a senator, rich, brave, pugnacious; he will be courageous and he will shine in war; he will reach high rank among the commanders of armies.' And then one could go on to the naming of the child the next day. But if the sign of the day proved to be calamitous, then the tonalpouhqui exercised his wit to find a better sign in the same set of thirteen, as nearly as possible in the four following days. 'The child is not born under a good sign,' he would say, 'but in this series there is another, a reasonable sign that will diminish and correct the unfortunate influence of the principal sign.' This was usually possible, since the signs that carried figures greater than ten were always favourable, as well as those that had the figure seven.4 At a pinch, it was possible to delay the baptism for more than the ordin-arily allowed four days.
The naming itself was carried out not by the soothsayer, nor by a priest, but by the midwife. The ceremony had two parts, the ritual washing of the child and the actual naming.
They began by getting ready a great deal of food and drink for the family feast that would follow the baptism; they also made a little shield, a bow with four arrows, each corresponding to one of the cardinal points, if the child were a boy, and little spindles, a shuttle and a box if it were a girl. All the relatives and friends gathered in the mother's house before sunrise.
As soon as day broke they arranged the symbolic objects in the inner courtyard or in the garden. The midwife, provided with a full water-jar, addressed the baby, saying 'Eagle, jaguar, valiant warrior, oh my grandson! Here you are come into this world, sent by your father and mother, the great god and the great goddess. You have been made and begotten in your own place, among the almighty gods, the great god and the great goddess who live above the nine heavens. It is Quetzalcoatl, who is in all places, who has done you this kindness. Now be joined to your mother the goddess of the water, Chalchiuhtlicue, Chal- chiuhtlatonac.' With her wet fingers she set some drops of water on his mouth. 'Take and receive this, for it is with this water that you will live upon earth, and grow and grow green again; it is by water that we have what we must have to live upon this earth. Receive this water.'
After this she touched the baby's chest with her wet hand and said, 'Here is the heavenly water, the very pure water that washes and cleans your heart and that takes away all stain.' Then she threw some drops on his head. 'Let this water enter into your body, and may it live there, this heavenly water, the blue celestial water.' Lastly she washed the child's whole body, saying the formula meant to keep off evil. 'Wherever you may be, you who might do this child a mischief, leave him, go off, go away from him; for now this child is born again - he is new-born and new- formed by our mother Chalchiuhtlicue.'
After the four water-rites, the midwife presented the child four times to the sky, invoking the sun and the astral gods. In this way the traditional gestures were regulated by the holy number. The last formula also invoked the earth, the divine spouse of the sun. And, taking the shield and the arrows, the midwife begged the gods that the boy might become a courageous warrior, 'so that he may go into your palace of delights where the brave who die in battle rest and rejoice'.
The ceremony for naming the girls was similar, but the baby was not presented to the sun, which was the god of men and warriors: after the ritual washing the midwife and the relatives, in a touching ceremony, spoke to the cradle in which the little girl would lie, calling it Yoalticitl, 'the healer by night', and saying, 'You who are her mother, take her, old goddess. Do her no harm; watch over her kindly.'5
When these rites were over, the name of the child was chosen and announced. The ancient Mexicans had no surnames, but some names were often handed down from grandfather to grandson in the same family. The birthday was also taken into consideration: a child who was born during the set of thirteen days that was ruled by the sign ce miquiztli, under the influence of Tezcatlipoca, received one of the appellations of this god.«
In some tribes, and particularly among the Mixtecs, each person was called by the day of his birth, usually followed by a nickname; for example 'seven - flower, eagle's feather* or 'four - rabbit, garland of flowers'.7 There was a very great variety in Mexican personal names. Taking them at random from the texts one finds such names as Acamapichtli (handful of reeds), Chimalpopoca (smoking shield), Itzcoatl (obsidian snake), Xiuhcozcatl (turquoise necklace), Quauhcoatl (eagle-snake), Citlalcoatl (snake of stars), Tlacateotl (godlike man), and Quauhtlatoa (speaking eagle). Women were given charming names like Mat- lalxochitl (green flower), Quiauhxochitl (rain-flower), Mia- huaxiuitl (turquoise-maize-flower) and Atototl (water-bird). All these names, like those of villages, mountains, etc., could be represented by pictograms in the manuscript records.8
The ceremony closed with a family banquet, at the end of which the old men and women might give themselves up to the pleasures of drink.