Why I'm Going To Name My Son Charles Manson

It's no revelation that parents live vicariously through their children. One of the ways they do so that we don't often realize is in the process of naming the child. I think many parents want to give their child a name they wish they'd been given, or at least one less boring than theirs. This is how the planet has wound up with girls named Whisper Wildflower Smith and their brother TroyAikmanFordTundra Jones. Some parents get more inventive and make up a name, giving us the abundance of MacKinzileighs and Brylaylees in the world. And, sometimes, parents have a sadistic streak and want to punish the fetus with a "traditional" name spelled woefully "uniquely" so that the child will grow up with the burden of constantly correcting people: Khourtni, K'Leigh and Thhommass have my sympathy.

(Take this with a grain of salt, as my name is Bud Sturguess, which I've often said sounds like the name of a backwoods worm salesman who runs a secret polygamist cult in his basement.) 

Speaking of parents punishing their children, I've said many times that in His grace God often won't punish us for our sins, but we have no qualms about making others pay for them, This is best exemplified in parents who abandon, neglect and abuse their children, or pass them from relative to relative, guardian to guardian, leaving the child prone for more mistreatment and abuse. In an overwhelming amount of cases, the child grows up feeling unloved and unimportant, and therefore sees the world and everything in it as lacking love or importance, or not being worthy of such. Just the way they were shaped to think by abusive wretches.

This is the case with many notorious criminals and killers in our world. There's no shortage of infamous names associated with depravity and violence whose upbringings were marred by neglect, sexual abuse, and a wealth of other things to which no child should be subject.

A man who often talked about how much he loved children and bemoaned the world's treatment of them - though usually as a dodge to answer questions about his crimes - was Charles Manson, perhaps the most recognizable name in American murder history. There was no doubt Charles Manson was a madman, a remorseless and deluded man who killed and ordered others to kill out of a desire for control over others, and a warped vengeance and hatred for the world he felt had shunned him.

But Charles Manson, murderer and cult leader as he became, was once a child. And like a vast number of adults who develop bloody world views like his, his childhood was rank with abuse and neglect. He was even called "No Name" by his mother, a teenage prostitute, before being given the name Charles, and the surname Manson, after a man to whom his mother was briefly married (who his biological father was remains a definitively unresolved question). In any case, the elder Manson soon disappeared from the young Charles' life. When he was in the custody of his mother, who was in and out of jail, they lived in run-down motel rooms with her male acquaintances, all of them heavy drinkers, until she decided she'd had enough of Charles and allowed him in the hands of a school for boys. When Charles was twelve, he ran away from the school, back to his mother, but she didn't want him. His teenage life was thereafter filled with crimes from petty theft to auto theft. As an adolescent he told the wardens of these jails that he didn't want to leave, feeling there was nothing and no one for him outside the prison walls. As he entered adulthood, Charles Manson's crimes became more and more serious, his jail sentences lengthier and lengthier. 

We know how that life of crime culminated to its bloodiest and most shocking heights in 1969.

It would be presumptuous of me to claim that if Charles Manson had had a stable upbringing he'd have never become the person he became. After all, Ted Bundy had a relatively normal childhood. But there is no doubt that treating a child in such a loveless and cold manner shapes his or her view of the world, and of themselves, and Manson's own words in his many crazed and furious interviews reflect this. Even if he hadn't become the leader of a murderous cult, there's no doubt Charles Manson was shaped for a life of crime. 

The blame doesn't lie with his mother - only with Charles. But his mother did punish her child for her sins. Charles Manson never had a chance in this world from the day he was born. 

When King David of Israel committed adultery with Bathsheba and subsequently conspired to have her husband killed, the name of the prophet who uncovered his sin and rebuked him was Nathan. When we read the genealogies of David and of Jesus, we see that one of David's sons was named Nathan. I can't help but think that each time David called Nathan's name, he was stung by the memory of what he'd done, of the life he destroyed by his lust and selfishness. The name must have been a heavy reminder for the king. Painful, even. And that's not always a bad thing.

So, despite not being great with kids, and despite being unable to produce any of my own due to a particularly hellacious game of Twister in 2013, I've resolved to name my son, if I ever have one, Charles Manson Sturguess (pending wife approval - I suppose I'll need to find one of those, too).
I want to be reminded every time I call his name, every time I tell him to get down off of the furniture, every time I tell him I'm proud of him, every time I tell him I'm disappointed in him, every time I tell him he can be a great man someday, that I have a responsibility to give this kid a chance. To give him everything he needs to survive, but also everything he needs to thrive, to be reminded he's loved, cherished, and irreplaceable. I want to remember the Charles Manson who had none of these things, so that it will never leave my heart to treasure my Charles Manson.

I'm not one who believes in teaching children they're inherently "amazing." I would teach my child that he or she (Charlotte Manson, I suppose) is one of a kind and show them they're loved abundantly, but until they cure Alzheimer's or invent some innovative longer-lasting urinal cake, I won't teach them they're "amazing" by simply being themselves. But even if Charles Manson Sturguess grows up to be a garbageman - which is a noble profession, so drop your elitism - and no astronaut or world leader, I hope that I will have done my best to teach him even in his humble position that he is loved. That he is valued by God, by his parents, by others around him. That Jesus gave His life for him. I hope that I will have done my best to teach him that no matter how bland or average he may see himself, there is only one of him - God made only one Charles Manson Sturguess, just as He made only one Charles Manson. I hope that the name given to him will remind me to encourage and teach him to teach him to use his life, no matter how drab or how fascinating it may be, to make wise choices, to use his breath and time for good and not for evil.

If it takes naming him Charles Manson to remind myself in the most heated and frustrated moments of parenting that I'm responsible for loving, cherishing, and shaping this human being, so be it. Maybe someday your neighborhood garbageman will be Charlie Sturguess. Or, maybe the fifty-fifth President of the United States will be remembered in history books as Charles M. Sturguess (glossing over the Manson part for the same reason Barack Obama never went by Barack Hussein Obama).

In either case, in either profession, I hope to give him the chance that so many never had. And may his name remind me of those who weren't given the chance. And if I never have a son, may God lead me to do more for children who are in the same position Charles Milles Manson was when he too was just a lonesome, loveless child.