I realized the other day that our names mark the various stages of our lives. While some stay with us, others come and go based on what we’re doing or who we’re with.
I’m named after my Dad, so in my early years I was often referred to as “Henry Junior” or “Little Henry.”
That was fine until I reached my pre and early teens when buddies or girls would phone and ask for me. My Aunt Katherine, Dad’s sister who lived with us, responded with the simple question “big Henry or little Henry?”
You can imagine what would follow when I next saw my friends. So, it was during my freshman year in high school that “Hank” was born.
I often wondered how Dad felt about my abandoning his name. My grandfather was Harry, so I felt a little disloyal to him, too. It wasn’t until a few years later when I joined the Knights of Columbus, where my Dad was a long time member, that I heard everyone there calling him “Hank.”
(While attending K of C meetings I also discovered that my Dad was a smoker. It must have been something he did socially, as he never smoked in front of us either at home or in the car. I don’t even remember him suddenly needing to empty the trash or go to the store for my Mother, which would have been perfect opportunities for him to have a quick cigarette or two.)
For the longest time I couldn’t adjust to being called “Mr. Sennott.” That was my Dad. But, I’ve become accustomed to it now. I still don’t like being called “sir,” but I understand it’s an attempt by the high schooler bagging my groceries or making my coffee at Dunks to be respectful. And I’ll give them credit for that.
“Mr. President” was cool during the two years I headed the Attleboro City Council. On a few occasions during that same time period, I briefly ascended to “Mr. Mayor” when the incumbent was out of town leaving me in charge.
My current names include “Dad;” “Papa,” and “Professor,” along with various tones of “honey,” depending on whether I’m in or out of the doghouse.
W.C. Fields famously observed that “it ain’t what they call you, it’s what you answer to.”
In this era when “throwing shade” is the rage and it’s often hard to have a civil discussion about much of anything, Fields’ wisdom is worth remembering.
It’s the names that we positively respond to, not the one’s
we’re called, that define who we are. We have the power to label our unique
brand and shouldn’t surrender it to those who disagree with us or for whatever
reason just don’t like us.
We are who we say we are. 