Administrative tasks: one of the banes of the academic life. Two weeks ago, I decided to give myself one of the fiddlier administrative headaches it is possible to have: I changed my name. I did this, with the help of two fellow historians, by deed poll, in which I formally "assume[d,] adopte[d] and determine[d]" to be henceforth known by the name of Dawn Hollis, rather than Dawn Jackson Williams. I handed a copy of said deed poll to the University Registry office, managed to catch my bank before it closed for lunch-time, and made all the necessary alterations to my Facebook and Twitter profiles. I am still struggling to ensure that the name change is recognised in University email systems.
Why would I, voluntarily, put myself through this process? The history, in brief, is this. In June 2012 I married an excellent young man who was just then coming to end of his doctorate in early modern English Literature. I changed my surname to his (a double-barrelled name already, so the compromise I might have favoured wasn’t an option) for a couple of reasons, the main one being that we were at that point in the midst of applying for a spousal visa, the granting of which was by no means guaranteed. In a pretty emotional state and in the midst of a lot of uncertainty, changing my name to one we shared felt like one thing I could control, and stood as a declaration of our determination to be together in spite of any immigration issues.
Since that time, my lovely husband has been granted permanent settlement in the UK, and has also transformed, butterfly-like, into a historian, with a job not only in the same university as me, but the same department. With the initial driver for my original name change gone, and with the advent of such professional proximity between myself and my husband, two things occurred to me: one, I missed my old name, and two, that asserting a distinct professional identity for myself might not be a bad thing. Thus the deed poll, and thus this post.
So, if anyone looking for a Dawn Jackson Williams whom they met at a conference or a workshop sometime between June 2012 and January 2015 has stumbled across this post, a little confused: I am she. But, Dawn Hollis is, once again, the name I go by now, and it will be the name on my PhD thesis and on any subsequent publications. And, administrative hassle aside, I'm extremely happy with that.
Why would I, voluntarily, put myself through this process? The history, in brief, is this. In June 2012 I married an excellent young man who was just then coming to end of his doctorate in early modern English Literature. I changed my surname to his (a double-barrelled name already, so the compromise I might have favoured wasn’t an option) for a couple of reasons, the main one being that we were at that point in the midst of applying for a spousal visa, the granting of which was by no means guaranteed. In a pretty emotional state and in the midst of a lot of uncertainty, changing my name to one we shared felt like one thing I could control, and stood as a declaration of our determination to be together in spite of any immigration issues.
Since that time, my lovely husband has been granted permanent settlement in the UK, and has also transformed, butterfly-like, into a historian, with a job not only in the same university as me, but the same department. With the initial driver for my original name change gone, and with the advent of such professional proximity between myself and my husband, two things occurred to me: one, I missed my old name, and two, that asserting a distinct professional identity for myself might not be a bad thing. Thus the deed poll, and thus this post.
So, if anyone looking for a Dawn Jackson Williams whom they met at a conference or a workshop sometime between June 2012 and January 2015 has stumbled across this post, a little confused: I am she. But, Dawn Hollis is, once again, the name I go by now, and it will be the name on my PhD thesis and on any subsequent publications. And, administrative hassle aside, I'm extremely happy with that.
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