-{ redgeek.net }-

Whenever I order food or drinks at one of those businesses that insist on asking for your name, in order to announce your order by name instead of number, I intentionally mumble my name rapidly: Barclay. I’m always interested in what variant I’ll inevitably receive. I imagine it a brief glimpse into the psyche of the cashier, a surprise verbal Rorschach, perhaps revealing some aspect of his or her background, culture, or upbringing. Usually, it comes out Barkley, which is fine – that’s how I’d spell it if I didn’t know, but that only tells me that my cashier’s hearing is exceptional. Occasionally, however, I receive some entertaining interpretations: Berkeley, Marky, Carckly, Parkway (?), Ptarky (??). Even less common, I get a blank stare accompanied by “No, your first name.” I pin these receipts on the wall of my cube.

As a child, I had some friends that would become absolutely incensed if you didn’t pronounce their name correctly, or used a abbreviate “Will” or “Bill” in place of “William.” I was always curious as to the source of the ire. Personally, I’ve had more than my parcel of nicknames growing up, some long and some short lived: Barc, Barcles, Bosborn, Barcl-osby, Barfly (as in barf-ly), Barfly (as in bar-fly), B., B-face, B-face Jesus … I can’t even recall the entire list.

None of my nicknames irked me – with the exception of Barf-ly. Why? Of course, the intent: it is to affront. The rest were and are fine with me, for the same reason: the intent is to indicate a sense of familiarity or joviality. In that sense, I can understand the desire to be called by a full and proper name. It display an intent of respect – that I will call you what you be desired to be called; I will give you that esteem. As I’m addressing you without anger or derision, I will do you the favor of using the label you prefer. But isn’t that all it is? A label? Something that you yourself didn’t even choose, but were assigned? (With exceptions, of course.) You had no input, no a-priori sense of affinity or meaning with that string of sounds. Artificial.

So it is both substantial and insubstantial at the same time. If you have the choice, why not choose that which pleases you?

In my martial arts school there are belt rankings. What does it matter what color your belt is? In a way, it doesn’t matter – completely superficial, particularly as belt rankings didn’t even exist a hundred years ago. It is the student that matters. However, the belt is also symbolic, an indicator of the training I’ve received and sweat I’ve poured out. If I lost my belt, I don’t lose my training, but I would expect you to do me the service of not urinating on it.

Say you did urinate on my belt, or my gi, or some other token of my training. Would I strike out at you? No. I understand the difference between the symbol and the content. They symbol is expendable, but the content is persistent. I receive the your intention to offend or rile me, but I don’t let the desecration of some artifact guide my behavior. Your actions are incidental, they could be anything that communicates your intent – or nothing at all. If your intent runs up against my intent, I will respond, but it is your mind that I am responding with, not your actions. I have no choice regarding the status of my soiled gi, but I do when it comes to my mind and action.

Likewise, we have wooden weapons swords to train with. We treat the wooden swords as we would live blades, because they are weapons. We don’t swing them around carelessly or joke about when they are within reach. Just like live blades, they can be used to mortal ends. At the same time, however, if my sword breaks during training – no problem, I’ll get another. It’s just some lignin. I’m not going to pray to it or give it a burial ceremony. I don’t die with my sword.

So when someone calls you by some nickname, why get angry? Choose to receive their intent as your prefer, make the conscious choice to make life easier on yourself. Call me Barc, Barcles, B-face, whatever … that’s fine. I actually have a friend that uses the nickname “Turd” as a term of endearment – which is fine, because everyone reads her intent, not her symbol. She’s re-defined the symbol in her context, but the message is familiar.

When you show me friendship, in whatever form, I appreciate it, and when you show me otherwise, I don’t react to your symbol, I read your intent and turn it to my advantage. Shouting derisive names? I see your lack of control. Obsequious and cajoling? I see your lack of confidence. Haughty and condescending? I see your lack of humility. Genuine, accepting, upstanding? I see you as a friend.