What's in a name?

< back | next >

what's in a name?

It's been said that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I've never met a rose that had the consciousness to take any pride of ownership in its moniker. Human beings are another strain altogether.

A person's name is the first thing he owns. No matter their culture, most people are in possession of their names before they are old enough to say them. We've all felt that sense of pride that comes with learning, at the age of four, five, or six, to print our names. Then, a few years later, we learn to write them in "cursive." What a thrill! We're grown up! Skip forward a few years, and we're practicing signatures for love notes and our first checking accounts.

For women, our names often change with marriage. An engaged woman can spend several hours practicing her future signature, trying out hyphenations, adding middle initials, and daydreaming about signing all manner of documents - checks drawn on a joint account, service orders for electricity and cable TV in the house for which she and her new husband have just signed a deed - in her new name.

Then there are the feelings that come when someone says your name aloud. It can be spoken in hundreds of different tones: a mother's soft goodnight lilt, a teacher's stern admonition, a dear friend's midnight distress call, a new love's adoring cadence. But this is the communication age, so we can't forget the way our names sound coming through the handset of a telephone, often spoken by people we don't know.

When a telemarketer or bill collector calls, he correctly assumes that last names are necessary, to avoid appearing overly familiar toward a person with whom he is not acquainted. However, as a person whose last name has been mangled beyond all reason, I would like to suggest that a few moments be put into consideration of possible pronunciations before that phone is dialed.

When I receive a phone call or message on my answering machine from someone who puts not a drop of effort into determining the correct pronunciation of my name, it tells me that, to this person, I am nothing but one of hundreds of calls he has to make. I am represented only by the number of digits following the words, "Payment due." I am someone whose name has been put on a list of people who might like to change long distance companies. I am a person who may want the carpet in three rooms of my home steam cleaned. To that individual, I am such a non-person that I do not deserve the respect accorded someone he would speak to face to face.

To the people who have called me and not tried to pronounce my name correctly, I will say this. You are unlikely to have spoken to me for long. Probably, I told you that you'd dialed the wrong number. Nobody by that name lives at this residence. Why ? Because I have been in possession of my name for twenty-nine years, and a person who will not give it the respect it deserves, who will not recognize it as a marker of my individuality and uniqueness, is not someone with whom I choose to converse.

So if you have an offer I can't refuse, or I owe you a debt I haven't paid, I ask for only one concession from you. Either take a few seconds to sound out my name, or use my first name only. I trust you'll be able to pronounce it. It's on the calendar.

Sincerely,

April Palleria
(rhymes with "malaria")

poetry | prose and stuff | pictures | grammar | recommendations | rants | links | what's new | FAQ | email me