Like USF, I have a name that confuses people. When friends or family unfamiliar with the Bay area ask me where I attend college, and I say the University of South Florida, they assume south Florida means, well, south Florida. Their automatic response is usually, “Oh, in Miami?”
The same confusion sets in when people first meet me and introductions are made. “Hi, my name is Aimee.” I almost always get the same two reactions: A. Blank stare followed by “Huh??” or B. “Ohhh, you mean Amy?”
If my name were Amy, I would have said so. I know what you are thinking… but it looks like Amy. Well, everything is not as it appears with my name. Names represent our identities, but when your name has been mispronounced your entire life, a person can become detached from their identity.
My name is actually pronounced “uh-mee.” It’s French and has an accent on the first “e,” which I find pretentious but should probably use to eliminate any of the “Amy” confusion.
But I have one of those names. You know, the kind of name one dreads being called out on the first day of school. Every semester, roll call usually involves the professor fumbling with my name during attendance and me doing damage control. Damage control means I have to correct the professor, which I actually feel pretty bad about because who wants to tell their professors they are wrong?
Unless I have had the same professor before, it’s basically been the same scenario since my first day of kindergarten.
Occasionally, a savvy teacher will pronounce it correctly and from that point on, the teacher is a genius in my book.
Sometimes a person just wants to blend in. I would rather stand out for other reasons than having a confusing name.
Over the years I have grown to love and appreciate the uniqueness of my name, but there was an extended period in my life where I just wanted to be a Jennifer, Heather or Nicole. Life seemed pretty easy for those girls. Straightforward, no confusion, and no slowing down the roll call with explanations about how they got their names and why.
Their names were very Zen. They just were.
The name game doesn’t just end in the classroom, of course. It follows me around like an orphan dog. Reservations at restaurants, telephone operators, doctor’s appointments, interviews, the list is endless.
Then there is Starbucks.
“What’s your name?” usually slows down the coffee line so I just make something up, like Jane, which can be problematic when my pseudonym is called and I forget.
I have had a few anxious moments thinking about my upcoming graduation and wondering if my name will be pronounced correctly. Luckily, friends of mine who have already graduated told me you are given a card to phonetically write out your name.
Thank God. If they called Amy, I would just have to sit there and wait patiently. Who wants to correct the USF administrators on stage in a packed theater, anyway?
Email: aralexa2@mail.usf.edu
Haha, I love it! Great article. Keep it up, Jane 🙂