What’s in a name?

Kathleen Anderson

The subject of names came up the other while talking to the great grands. They were telling me the names of their friends at school and I remarked how most of them were different from the names my peers were blessed with.

I explained to them when I was in school there were so many Kathleens, and Catherines the teacher would give us nicknames so we would know who she was calling on.

There were often three of us in one room with the above-mentioned names so we were assigned Kathy, Kate, and Kay as our “Classroom” names. Naturally, our classmates picked up on this so the names stuck – often throughout our lifetimes.

My own mother finally gave in and for years I was called Kathy by everyone, except one aunt. It did not matter to anyone that I never cared for that name.

Then came the day one of my friends began a sentence with “So, Kath,” blah, blah, blah. And for the next twenty years or so that became my name. I even signed Christmas and birthday cards, and personal notes with So, Kath.

And then one day while at work, a lovely woman came in and introduced herself as Kathleen Adams. I was hooked. Although I still answered to So, Kath while with my friends, to the rest of the world, I became Kathleen.

I had always known my mother had picked out another name before I was born, but I don’t remember if she ever told me what it was.

When she was pregnant with me, she was living with her sister while my dad was serving in the Air Force overseas. My aunt had a good friend named Kathleen Mardell and she wrote that name on pieces of paper and taped them to every mirror in the house.

Apparently, my mother spent a fair amount of time in front of those mirrors because when I made my debut that became my name.

When I was little my mother often sang “I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen,” at nap time. For years I thought having a song with my name in it was too cool for words, until I grew up and found out the song was about taking a dying woman back to Ireland to be buried. Really Mom?

Of course, the Irish heritage didn’t help. A couple of my Irish uncles changed their names when they became adults and their nicknames were pretty interesting too. I have yet to meet anyone else with an Uncle Peaches.

Today the friends of my great grands have what we thought of as ‘old fashioned’ names; Iris, Emma, Olivia and Sophia for girls and Liam, Noah, Oliver, James, and Elijah for the boys.

I met several of these kids at Prairie and Willows’ combined birthday party last weekend. The party was held at Squaxin Park in Olympia. Speaking to some of the parents, I found that several of their children’s names came from ancestors – others from personal choice.

Funny how everything old becomes new again.

My children’s names came from the era they were born in. My oldest was named by my then-eight-year-old brother. I had another name picked out until he came home from school about three days before she was born, and announced there was a very pretty new girl at school and her name was Dana.

Michelle was named after a popular song by the Beatles and Carlta Nicole after her fraternal grandmother. Carlta seemed like a grown-up name for such a tiny baby, so she became Nikki and has been ever since. Ann Janette was named after an actress that was popular at the time of her birth, but has been called Anjie since then.

In the second grade Anjie brought home a note from her teacher that said “Angie doesn’t know how to spell her name.” I sent a note back saying “she does. You don’t.”

The moral to this column is, teachers, in my humble option, should not be allowed to name kids that don’t belong to them. Call them by numbers if you have more than one with the same name – or if you just have a bunch living under your roof.

It worked for me.

Kathleen Anderson writes this column each week from her home in Olympia. Contact her at  kathleen@theJOLTnews.com or post your comment below.