What’s in a name

 

I don’t like it when people call me Rob.

As a name, Rob is fine. No better or worse than Bob or Robert (or even “hey you”) in the grand scheme of things. If it’s your name and you like using it, awesome. And if you don’t like Bob, that’s fine too.

There are people that call me Rob. Some only once. Some repeatedly. I usually end up blocking it out. I can recall more than a handful of times when people said Rob and I never reacted. (Which is funny, because “hey you” wasn’t all that much of a joke, and I’ve responded to that quite often as well as several obscenities, while Rob regularly flies right on by.)

End result, Rob is a fine name, though I don’t like being called Rob.

I suppose part of it comes from my father. He’s a Bob. And yes, when younger, it was big Bob and little Bob.

Another part I think comes from surroundings. Until I was several years into school, I had never met a Rob. Every Robert I knew used Robert, Bob or Bobby. Next door neighbors had a father-son combo of Bob in the house. They were also big Bob and little Bob.

Fact is, knowing a person’s preferences can be a reflection of knowing the person. Is it Cat or Cath or Cathy? Is the name spelled out with a y or an i? Is it spelled by doubling the letter n? Is the formal name shifted to a nickname that we all would have guessed, or did they select something unusual?

Knowing any of this admits you to an inner circle of sorts. Not necessarily a highly protected or excessively private inner circle. Intimate might be a bit strong for a description. But, not knowing can demonstrate a lack of familiarity more quickly than you could ever imagine.

One day I was working with a group of new employees at our company. I forget the specifics, but we had wandered into the idea of knowing a customer’s name. I mentioned the idea of shifting between the formal (“Hello Mrs. Smith”) and informal (“Hey Jill”) during our conversation. And I used my preference for not being called Rob as one example of where it can go quite wrong, however pure or innocent the intentions.

A member of senior management came in to say hello and greet the new staff. She stood in front of them and offered what you might expect as a stereotypical we’re-a-big-family welcome message. And she finished with this:

“Many of these people will become like family because you’re with them so often, just as I have over the years with the people in your department like Rob.”

She turned, smiled, and extended a hand toward me in recognition. I never broke the contact of looking toward her, but peripherally I could see every head in the classroom snap as they shot from her to me after she called me Rob. We had just been talking about it… and there it was. I smiled and nodded as an acknowledgement of her thoughts, then after she left tackled the subject that had become rather important ground to navigate.

I suppose you never really know. You hope you get these things right, and don’t make too many mistakes. I know family members that aren’t sure when to use an i or a y or something else entirely in writing out a name for members of the family. Mistakes can be innocent, after all.

It’s the thought that counts. I suppose. That is, unless you call me Rob.

 

If you have any comments or questions, please e-mail me at Bob@inmybackpack.com