Courtrooms are most associated with lawyers, judges and trials. People wear suits and serious expressions on their faces.
Courtrooms are not often associated with bubbles and giggles.
That is until someone walks into Judge Jonathan Rands’ fourth-floor district courtroom in the Whatcom County Courthouse and sees him holding a bubble machine for a name change ceremony.
“Name changes are my absolute favorite calendar because they are a happy occasion. They are life-changing occasions,” Rands told more than a dozen people assembled on a recent Friday afternoon. “I think when you change your life and you change the way that people interact with you, it deserves something more than just a signature. It deserves bubbles.”
Rands said he stole the idea for the bubble machine from previous District Court Judge David Grant, who used to use a bubble wand. Grant got the idea from a court clerk.
By bringing out the bubble machine, Rands injects a sense of levity into the process. He and District Court Judge Angela Anderson approach the ceremony with care, leading those who’ve changed their names to cherish the moment and forget the fear that can come from walking into a courtroom.
Estella Young, 34, who changed her name on Friday, Aug. 2, said the last time she had been in court had been for a much more serious occasion.
While she didn’t expect the name change process to be scary, “The bubbles made me really happy. I didn’t think I was going to be smiling as much as I am.”
Young changed her name because she had grown out of her deadname — or former birth name — and had given herself a new identity.
“I’ve always heard that your name would be the sweetest sound and that’s not at all my case,” she said. “But this one makes me a lot happier.”
Changing a name that’s associated with past trauma is just one of the many reasons why someone might go through the name change process.
“I think when you change your life and you change the way that people interact with you, it deserves something more than just a signature. It deserves bubbles.”
Whatcom District Court Judge Jonathan Rands
Some may never explain why they’ve changed their names because of privacy.
And the reason for that decision can stay private. According to state law, judges no longer have to ask for the reason why people are changing their names.
Tukayote Helianthus, 40, said privacy was very important to him when he decided to change his name — a journey that took nearly 18 months before he went to court for the official naming ceremony — because he didn’t want to relive the memories associated with his old name.
Helianthus had the name change ceremony in front of Anderson in October. Unlike Rands, the judge did not have a bubble machine, but she still managed to make the ceremony special with her kind demeanor.
“She made it very easy to understand and that took all the stress and anxiety out of it,” he said. “She was very respectful and there was no personal digging, like ‘Why are you changing your name.’”
For others going through the name change process, they do so to reflect their gender.
For Morgan Combel, 24, changing her name was an act of gender affirmation as a trans woman, as well as the start of a new chapter in her life.
“I’m starting a new job on Monday and so I’d rather have this done and out of the way before giving an old name that no one knows me by,” she said.
Karen Schultz, the senior court clerk in the courtroom, hit the button for the bubble machine as Combel signed her new name. The fanfare was awesome, Combel said.
Rands said he didn’t set out to be known as the “bubble judge.”
“I’ve had lawyers come up to me that said what you’ve done changed my friend’s life or my child’s life,” he said. “Once I started getting that feedback, then I realized exactly how powerful it was.”
After the Friday ceremony, the newly named people waited outside of the courtroom for their paperwork. As Rands and his clerk passed out the official name change documents, more bubbles jetted out of the machine and hung in the air as people left the hallway as the newest, and maybe truest, versions of themselves.
Annie Todd is CDN’s criminal justice/enterprise reporter; reach her at annietodd@cascadiadaily.com; 360-922-3090 ext. 130.
