A rose by any other name would not be a rose
Recently, my "Little Commie" Joe told me that he liked that I called him by his full name. That wasn't always the case. In fact, when I first began addressing him by his full name he would become very agitated. He felt that I was playing the "Big" role too well, that I was talking down to him, in a sense, to get on his nerves.
I like to call people by their full names. Don't get me wrong, I give nicknames out like they're going out of style, too. Nicknames scream of fun times and close friends. But there are qualities and intricacies inherent in someone's full birth name that can never be translated via nicknames like "Tranasaurus" or "Squee."
Birth names are rooted in the basic question of presenting oneself in society. How do you tell someone you've never met who you are? How do you reference someone not present? It is exceedingly difficult to list every belief, every moral quality and qualm, every personal strength and weakness as personal identifiers over a handshake.
"Hi, I believe that mothers should/shouldn't be allowed to have abortions in any circumstance/these specific circumstances (list here). I love the color blue/blue and detest the color pink/black/none. My belief in a higher being..."
You see? Exceedingly difficult. And then, words themselves are representations of thoughts. Words are ultimately and inherently flawed because they are not thought themselves. When speaking, we must translate thought into speech, and when hearing, we must translate it back again. Like an intricate game of telephone, the net result is often far removed from the initial provocation.
But flawed as they may be, words are the staple of interpersonal communication in this highly digitized, globalized world. In fact, all you have to represent me, the writer, right at this instant in time, are the very words you are now reading. So how do we get around the problem of wanted to fully represent ourselves, present or not, without having to present an entire life history?
Names. Specifically, birth names. It's who you've been since the moment you came into existence on earth. I believe strongly that people should own their names. They should be proud to speak them and they should know fully, inside and out, what it means to be that person to whom their name refers. How many times have you introduced yourself and faltered for your name, even for an instant? One should be able to look another in the eye over a firm handshake and introduce oneself, even if not quite expecting the introduction.
Ownership of a name thus implies knowledge of the individual within. Ownership of a name can inspire confidence and self-esteem in an individual. And due respect ought to be given that individual, especially when he or she is a close friend. So when I refer to people by their full and proper names, I am most often conferring adoration, respect and possibly love.
Unless I've just discovered that you've broken something of mine. Then I will use your full name in the manner I was originally accused of. And, mind you, without apology.
- kid A
I like to call people by their full names. Don't get me wrong, I give nicknames out like they're going out of style, too. Nicknames scream of fun times and close friends. But there are qualities and intricacies inherent in someone's full birth name that can never be translated via nicknames like "Tranasaurus" or "Squee."
Birth names are rooted in the basic question of presenting oneself in society. How do you tell someone you've never met who you are? How do you reference someone not present? It is exceedingly difficult to list every belief, every moral quality and qualm, every personal strength and weakness as personal identifiers over a handshake.
"Hi, I believe that mothers should/shouldn't be allowed to have abortions in any circumstance/these specific circumstances (list here). I love the color blue/blue and detest the color pink/black/none. My belief in a higher being..."
You see? Exceedingly difficult. And then, words themselves are representations of thoughts. Words are ultimately and inherently flawed because they are not thought themselves. When speaking, we must translate thought into speech, and when hearing, we must translate it back again. Like an intricate game of telephone, the net result is often far removed from the initial provocation.
But flawed as they may be, words are the staple of interpersonal communication in this highly digitized, globalized world. In fact, all you have to represent me, the writer, right at this instant in time, are the very words you are now reading. So how do we get around the problem of wanted to fully represent ourselves, present or not, without having to present an entire life history?
Names. Specifically, birth names. It's who you've been since the moment you came into existence on earth. I believe strongly that people should own their names. They should be proud to speak them and they should know fully, inside and out, what it means to be that person to whom their name refers. How many times have you introduced yourself and faltered for your name, even for an instant? One should be able to look another in the eye over a firm handshake and introduce oneself, even if not quite expecting the introduction.
Ownership of a name thus implies knowledge of the individual within. Ownership of a name can inspire confidence and self-esteem in an individual. And due respect ought to be given that individual, especially when he or she is a close friend. So when I refer to people by their full and proper names, I am most often conferring adoration, respect and possibly love.
Unless I've just discovered that you've broken something of mine. Then I will use your full name in the manner I was originally accused of. And, mind you, without apology.
- kid A