What Is The Story Of Your Name? Personal Narrative Assignment #1, Class #2

Call Me Katherine
by Katherine Walcott

I hate the name I grew up with.

It’s not a dead name or anything that dramatic. It’s a simple nickname. And I hate it.

The name on my birth certificate is Katherine Xxxx Xxxxx. My mother thought that Katherine was pretty as a first name and that it gave my full name a nice rhythm. No family connection whatsoever.

So, my official name is Katherine. Everybody called me Kathy.

Well, no.

That’s the problem.

Not everybody called me Kathy.

My parents each had a personal nickname for me. My mother called me Snooch. My father called me Puss. They only used Kathy when I was being called to the carpet.

I tended – and still do – to small friend groups. No one was trying to get my attention across the floor of a crowded club. We’d be sitting around. If a friend wanted to talk to me, they would turn, look at me, and start speaking.

The last group was teachers. They used my name. As in, “Does anyone other than Kathy have a question.” Or “Kathy, please sit down.”

If I heard “Kathy” I was either in class or in trouble. Or both.

Is it any wonder I didn’t like it?

I have nothing against the name itself. I have friends with the name. They are welcome to it. I just dislike when it is aimed at me.

This would cause backfires with sales reps. You know the type. They are trained to drop Customer Name into every sentence in order to build rapport. Hearty handshake. Direct eye contact. “Come over here, Kathy, and let me tell you about the virtues of this three-handled moss-covered family credenza.” Eeek, no.

I knew it was futile to force a change while I was living where I grew up. Too many folks knew me by that name for too long. Then I got married and moved to a new state. Voila. People who would call me whatever I told them. The new me was born.

My family would slip from time to time. It was only natural. Since I lived out of state, visits were infrequent. The issue didn’t come up often enough to make a case out to of it. A family member would call me Kathy. I’d flinch a bit. I’d smile. I’d go home in a few days.

Most of my communication with my parents was by telephone. One doesn’t need names in a one-on-one phone calls. This was in the pre-Internet era. Just after we stopped banging rocks together to send messages.

I’m less bothered about it than I used to be.

At a recent visit, I noticed that my mother is conscientious when introducing me, “This is my daughter, Katherine.” However, she has a tendency to slip during conversation. “Kathy and I went to lunch.”

Theses days, meh, that’s pretty much the only time it happens. Although I have to admit getting a slight case of the shivers while writing this. I would hear the sentences in my head and think, ‘Yup, still don’t like it.’

I would like to close with props to my husband. He knew me for 8 years as Kathy. We got married. I announced a name change. In 36 years, I don’t think he has slipped once. That’s a love language.

Afterword

Assignment #1 from class. Posted as submitted.

Before Class

Cover letter, my comments to instructor:

I dont know how much author statement is acceptable. Some classes yes, some no.

This kind of writing – expository? descriptive? declamatory? – comes easily to me. The gap between this and telling a story is why I am in this class.

551 words. I tend to write short.

My evaluation, comments to beta reader (waves hi):

I like it. Dont think it is Personal Narrative. Be interesting to see what class says.

Personal, yes. Narrative, not so much. Significant personal transformation, not at all.

Feedback

Beta reader. Tend to. Intended usage: I am inclined to, i.e. I tend to wear casual clothes on most days. Beta reader pointed out, “Tended to as in took care of?” Confusing meanings. Would change.

Class. I not going to give their direct comments, both for privacy & to allow people to speak freely. Instead, my responses to the critiques.

Years ago, folks in a workshop found my writing humorous. I never understood this. If I simply recounted an event, the result was funny. If I made an effort to be funny, nada.

I am comfortable with my writing style. “The head of the department told me that my writing was ‘pedestrian.’ Well, I prefer to think of it as clear and commercially-viable, but thanks for the input.” [Schadenfreude Saturday, My Pain Is Your Amusement]

I have no emotional depth. I know this. I own this. [Thoughts]

“Does anyone other than Kathy have a question.” I became a journalist. People now pay me to ask questions. Perhaps this should not be as much of a surprise as it was. [My Origin Story]

Class posts
[What Is Personal Narrative, Thoughts Before A Class]
[Why I Write, Personal Narrative Class #1]

Onwards!
Katherine