Patheos

BuddhistCatholicContemplativeEvangelicalGeneral ChristianHinduJewishLatter-day SaintMuslimNew VisionsProgressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Patheos

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos Patheos on Facebook Patheos on YouTube

Good Letters

My Evolving Identity

Last updated on: May 12, 2016 at 1:53 pm   by Peggy Rosenthal

My Evolving Identity 2016-05-12T13:53:11-07:00 Peggy Rosenthal

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

 

10901090303_16118622bb_zI’ve just read a thirty-page article called “Whitman Music: The Problem of Adaptation.” A critical analysis of musical settings of Whitman’s poetry, the article was published in the 1965 issue of Books at Brown, a journal devoted to materials in the Special Collections of Brown University’s library. The author is Peggy Z. Rosenthal.

I turn to the contributors list at the back of the journal to learn more about this author. I see that her article is “based on the honor thesis which Mrs. Rosenthal [this is so long ago that “Ms.” hadn’t yet been born] contributed to The American Civilization program. Mrs. Rosenthal graduated magna cum laude from Pembroke College in June 1964.”

What the contributors’ bio omits is that Mrs. Rosenthal, as Peggy Zierler, studied music composition all through elementary and high school, while writing poetry for the high school literary magazine. Hence her interest, for her college honors thesis, in musical settings of poetry. (It was her thesis advisor who suggested basing her thesis on the Brown library’s unusual collection of musical settings of Whitman.)

Nor does the bio mention that Peggy Zierler married Mr. Rosenthal just before her senior year of college, commuting to Brown from their apartment at MIT, where he was doing graduate work. In order to get married as a Pembroke student, she needed a permission letter from the Pembroke Dean. The letter also stipulated that Mrs. Rosenthal would not be allowed to spend the night in the Pembroke dorms; her experience as a married woman would not be a good influence on her (supposedly) virginal peers.

After Brown, Mrs. Rosenthal went on for a doctorate in literature, where parts of her dissertation on Whitman’s poetry were published in scholarly journals in the early 1970s, under the name of P. Z. Rosenthal. She chose the initialed name in order to disguise her gender. Women in academia were still few, and considered intellectually inferior by the male majority, so she strategized that a non-gendered name would be more likely to gain acceptance by journal editors.

While at graduate school, an astoundingly self-absorbed immaturity moved her to divorce Mr. Rosenthal in order to marry George Dardess. Influenced by the newly emerging feminist movement, she declined to take Mr. Dardess’s last name, saying huffily to herself: “I’ll be damned if I’m going to change my name every time I change husbands!” (Irony: She has not changed husbands. And after forty-five fulfilling years with Mr. Dardess, doesn’t plan to.)

(Historical footnote: Once she had married Mr. Dardess, Social Security and the IRS immediately asserted that she had changed her name to his. This was 1970. In order to legally keep her name—which of course wasn’t “her” name but her first husband’s—she had to go before a judge and make a case for this radical request. The judge unhappily granted it. “But which last name will you give your children?” he whiningly asked.)

As a young academic beginning her college teaching career at the start of the women’s movement, the now Dr. Rosenthal taught courses on women writers and wrote a couple articles on the new field of feminist criticism. Now, thanks to feminism, she could “come out” as a woman, so a simple Peggy Rosenthal authored these pieces.

But then she left academia to pursue writing full time. Her first attempts were what she (pretentiously) thought of as “structuralist fictions,” which were published under the name of Piesch in self-proclaimed post-modern literary journals. The alias of Piesch was a family joke. Within their extended family, members had taken to calling each other by the initial of their first names. So Peggy’s family name was P, which her sisters had affectionately extended to Peesh. Thinking that a Germanic form would look more professional, she altered the spelling for the publication of her experimental fictions.

Then came 1983, and the event that put a pause on the play of aliases.

In 1983 she was baptized. This changed not her name but her entire being. She became a new creation in Christ. Naturally, this changed the focus of her writing. No longer pathologically self-absorbed, she looked out on the world and saw injustice and war. Through the 1980s, as Peggy Rosenthal, she wrote impassioned articles against the nuclear arms race and for nonviolent transformation of society.

When peace (supposedly) broke out all over with the end of the Cold War in 1989, she decided to return to her literary interests and combine them with her newly-developing Christian faith. So a string of books and articles on the spirituality of poetry came out, beginning in the 1990s.

Peggy Rosenthal stayed put as her professional identity. But those irrepressible aliases kept multiplying in other realms. As of this writing in 2015, she is Abuelita to her granddaughters, and a teasing Sr. Peg to her Trappist monk friends. She’s abuelitapeg on twitter and grannypeg on ravelry (the knitting social networking site).

As for the uncountable usernames on a myriad of other websites, she has long given up trying to remember them. Who is she on Amazon? On Paypal? On her Visa account? On etsy? On Skype? She shakes her head at the dizzying possibilities.

But fortunately none of these usernames has anything to do with her true identity. The only name that matters is the one God addresses her by in the Song of Songs (1:16): “my love.” She notes this, then pauses to reflect: God addresses everyone with exactly this name!

Her true identity—and mine—we acknowledge with a grateful sigh, lies not in a crafted individuality or a hodgepodge of aliases but in our shared humanity as God’s beloved.

Peggy Rosenthal is director of Poetry Retreats and writes widely on poetry as a spiritual resource. Her books include Praying through Poetry: Hope for Violent Times(Franciscan Media), and The Poets’ Jesus (Oxford). See Amazon for full list. She also teaches an online course, “Poetry as a Spiritual Practice,” through Image’s Glen Online program*.*

Peggy Rosenthal

Personal Reflection

Feminism

identity

life experience

Peggy Rosenthal

personhood

Previous Post



July 9, 2015

Art on Fire: The Life and Work of Melissa Weinman, Part 2

Next Post



July 13, 2015 Airbnb and the Art of Hospitality


Browse Our Archives

Select a Category A. G. Harmon Alissa Wilkinson Allison Backous Art Authors Brad Fruhauff Bradford Winters Bryan Bliss Caroline Langston Chad Thomas Johnston Chris Hoke Christiana N. Peterson Culture D.G. Myers D.L. Mayfield Daniel Bowman Jr. David Griffith Elizabeth Duffy Faith Film Greg Wolfe Guest Contributor Interview Jan Vallone Jeffrey Overstreet Jessica Eddings-Roeser Jessica Mesman Griffith Kelly Foster Lindsey Crittenden Morgan Meis music Natalie Vestin Nick Olson Peggy Rosenthal Personal Reflection Poetry Friday Reflection Relationships Review Richard Chess Richard Cole Sara Zarr Shannon Huffman Polson Sonya Bilocerkowycz Tania Runyan Tony Woodlief Topical Categories Uncategorized Vic Sizemore Writing

Select a Month October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 February 2008


Follow Us!

Follow Us on Facebook Follow Us on Twitter



TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

What king sought Isaiah's prayers when facing Assyrian invasion?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Rehoboam Josiah Manasseh Hezekiah

Related posts from Good Letters

Catholic

Waiting for Nothing to Happen

Good Letters

Catholic

Morning in a Forgotten Neighborhood

Good Letters

Catholic

Humans Love Heroes

Good Letters

Catholic

The Lost Goodbye

Good Letters

TRENDING AT PATHEOS Catholic

The Parable Of The Sower And The Word...

One of Christ’s most famous parables is that of the sower who...

Rejecting Doom: Christian Hope And Human Action

Christianity is a religion of hope. We are to have hope and...

Why I Choose the Eucharist Over the Sermon

Choose the Eucharist, Not the Sermon What are we supposed to get...

5 Design Elements Found in Spiritually Rooted Homes

Putting Spirituality Into Home Decor Our homes are more than our living...

Credo: A Story of God Told with the...

About 10 years ago, I began to imagine a personal "Credo" that...

The Anatomy of Divine Revelation in Catholic Thought

The claim that God has made Himself known to human beings is...

view all Catholic blogs

Patheos on Facebook Patheos on YouTube

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Copyright 2008-2026, Patheos. All rights reserved.

Subscription Support Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In

Follow Patheos Patheos on Facebook Patheos on YouTube