Names and Nicknames Matter

This morning I posted the following on facebook:

Boss wants me to be available Friday night to transport he and his friends around (because as he says, "you're always available"). I told him that I couldn't because I was going to the Male/Manual football game. He was not happy. SK, to avoid conflict, says, "don't worry. She'll be available. Have you seen the weather. It's not getting out of the 40's on Friday." I am taking that as a personal challenge. See you at the game!

Almost immediately I began receiving messages from people who could not believe that my boss would make such a request of me.  I giggled to myself and then quickly made certain to post that this "Boss" was not in fact my supervisor but rather my eldest son.  Boss is the nickname we gave him at birth--it in fact was my concession as my husband wanted to legally name him "Boss Bailey Doyle" as Boss Bailey was Georgia's number one recruit the summer of 1997.  (Our daughter born in 1995, he wanted to name "Samaki Walker Doyle"--those conversations are for another post.)  What was interesting this morning was that many people knew exactly who I was talking about in the post.  Everyone in Athens called him Boss and family and friends who have known us for a long time called him and still call him Boss.  It's part of who he is, part of his history, but for others it was not so clear.  "Boss" held different connotations for different people--and that got me thinking about names--our given names, our nicknames, and what we call others and ourselves--they matter.

Our children were all named for family members.  When they were younger they loved hearing the stories of how we chose their names and the stories of what they would have been called if they were the other gender.  It connected them to generations of people; they love being a part of a long line, to being a part of a bigger story.  My name matters to me; I was born Ann Katherine Kanto after my maternal and paternal great-grandmothers both living at the time.  When Chris and I got married I couldn't let either name go and I also still wanted to keep Kanto--Chris loves tax time when he has to remember which three he used the previous year--also makes for interesting monograms; but I diverge.

The children also each have nicknames, Monkey Moo, Boss, Willie Wonka and Carolina.  We use these names as often as their given names--they also have stories behind them--and they were given in love.  I myself have carried nicknames through life and when I remember them I remember those who gave them to me, those who loved me, those who played a part in my life.  Daddy calls me "Katherine Mouse", my sister calls me "Doodles", my cousin "Cuz", high school friends called me "Scooby", my almost little siblings "Big Katherine", college friends "Kunta Kanto", adult friends "K squared", my children's friends "Mama Doyle", Chris "Darlin'", and my children "Mommy" or "Madre".  All these names help define who I have been and who I am; all these names and the people who bestowed them on me have helped to shape who I am.  

Then there are the derogatory names I have been called over the years, some by people I can no longer remember, but I remember the names "Buffalo Butt", "Tom Boy", "Snob", and others.  These also remain a part of me.

There are also other names or descriptions that I  carry, "recovering anorexic", "child of divorced parents", "adult child of an alcoholic", and these names have also helped shape me; they are also a part of who I am. And finally there are the names I call myself, "neurotic", "controlling", "outsider." 

Names and nicknames play huge parts in forming who we are as people.  Perhaps what we tend to forget most easily is that we were first and foremost formed in the image of God, and God's name for each and every of us is "Beloved."  May we always be shaped primarily by that and may we strive to live lives that remind others.