More on identity
A return to uncle bobby
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In a prior post that is so deep in the chain of newsletters I wrote about my Uncle Bobby.
My uncle Bobby makes teeth.
He has my grandfathers name.
Not the one with the watch.
My dad’s dad.
He owned a taxi company that’s pretty famous in my town.
Bobs Taxi.
Around the age that I am now, Bobby attempted to change his name.
He wanted to be taken more seriously.
He wanted to be called Robert.
That lasted for a little bit.
His friends, many of whom he’s known since he’s been five years old resisted.
He capitulated.
He shortened his name from Robert to merely ‘R’.
Then with the hockey crowd?
They started calling him Rzee.
Arzee
Or Arse-y.
It was painful.
His attempt to claim an identity was mocked and usurped.
The people around him wouldn’t let him change. They wouldn’t recognize the change he wanted to make in the world.
For you dear reader, please call me Jim.
But professionally, I’m going to experiment a bit.
I’m making a stretch.
I’m going to show up as James.
I’ll try it out for a bit and see how it fits…
Although Jimmy fits, and Jim is approachable, James, as an author, makes sense. There's an authority in the name. Whatever you call yourself, I hope you feel supported. Just a follow up; when I think of Jimmy, I think of Jimmy Carter...not a kid, an approachable man of the people. We all have different perspectives of names. That's why it is problematic. Whoops...I said problematic. That's a word I never had a problem with, but another's perspective has affected me.
I, too, tried to use a different handle...my first and middle, as my Aunt Maddie calls me. No one else uses it, but it is how I think of myself and sign my name. Sometimes it's just about trying stuff on to see how it feels. And what's wrong with different names for different purposes, just like clothes?
Don't think anyone is hoing to call you J-Zee. I think that one is taken.