I suppose that there is something to letting your child choose their name. But consider: how many of them would choose Yoo-ghi-Oh? Yikes.
For myself, I had to learn this one the hard way, going from the frying pan in to the fire and back.
Born Richard Marshall W. Father is Richard Ebbert W.
Dad decided (6 months later) that he was tired of the 'little Ricky' nonsense and my parents decided to use my middle name, Marshall, which was a no uncommon name in Idaho in the 1960s, and was also my mother's maiden name. No other male descendants of the Marshall line, so my father's decision pleased a lot of my mother's family. No one made fun of 'Marshall' because Marshall was a common name, even stamped on an uncommon little boy. (Moi.)
Then we moved to the Philadelphia area when I was five, and 'Marshall' turned in to a living hell, because NO ONE had ever heard of the name: They are named John, Paul, Nicky, Joey, Frankie....pick an Italian or Jewish name, there were at least three in my elementary school classes. But only one 'Marshall'.
I went through 10 years of this abuse until I changed schools when I was 15. And I took the opportunity to reconstitute my name the way *I* wanted. At 15 you want to be special, but you want to fit in. You want to stand out, but not 'stick out'. It is a crumby time for any kid. And while I had plenty of good reasons to want to leave 'Marshall' behind, I took what I can only call the most short sighted way out: I introduced my new self, at my new school as 'Richard.' or 'Rick'. Everyone knew how to spell it. Everyone knew how say it. It was just like several other Richards in the school. Ahhhhh....
Until someone yelled, 'Hey....DICK!' And it was all down hill from there. Coming in to this school cold, all of the other kids had been in school together since Kindergarten. I was new. I was different (and not just because I was new.) And I had a name that was easy to abuse.
I guess a case could be made that if I'd shown up as 'Marshall' it would have been just as bad. But that's not how I remember it now. All I remember is, "Hey DICK!"
When I left for college (West coast and back to my roots) I swapped back to Marshall again. And I've never had another problem, even though I'm back living in the Philly area. The Joeys and Nickys and Paulies are all still around, but they stick to their social ghetto and I stick to mine; we don't mix socially so it doesn't really matter any more. But I wouldn't be stupid enough to go on to their turf, and they wouldn't have any interest in coming on to mine.
But here is where things come out different for me: I was very careful in choosing my children's names, for those very reasons. (Alexander Matthew and Miranda Elena.) I am compassionate with people I know who have unusual names that set them apart from the ethnocentric names of this region and go out my way to be friendly with them. Some of them have it a lot worse than I ever did: two of my co-workers are (no kidding) Iftakharul Islam and Sefakor Ampofo.
I guess that's the best you can do: Take the crappy things that have happened to you in your life and swear by what ever you hold sacred that you won't do that to others, and that you'll defend them against people who do...because there was no one to defend you when you were young.
M