Gina is one reason my younger son is not called Moses. We’re in a light blue Toyota Corolla on the corner of Parker & McGee in Berkeley, California.  I’m 5 months pregnant. She asks if we’ve chosen names. I say I like Moses.  The African American woman I’ve asked to be my son’s godmother  laughs so loud I still swear, 20 years on, the doors fell off that car.  “You can NOT call him Moses!!”  For that, my son adores her.