With this question, thoughts immediately take me back to Mr ‘Smoothy’ Smith’s English classes in the mid nineteen eighties. He was the most easily sidetracked teacher I can remember, and any chance to avoid trying to tutor teenagers through the toil of Shakespearian set works was jumped upon. We had arrived at the famous ‘Rose’ quote, and Smoothy had asked us for metaphor and meaning in this well-known line in which Juliet proclaims her love for Romeo regardless of the sting of his surname.
‘Would a rose, by any other name smell just as sweet, boys?’
“It depends who Rose is, Sir”
And then a whole lot of inappropriate comments on the poor fictional and fantasy fueled Rose would follow, punctuated by the banter of breaking voices and titters of teenage tremors.
“Please Sir, can’t you just tell us a joke?”
“You are a joke Robson.”
With a wink to the joker to signal his complete lack of malice, and without breaking neither his stride nor his thespian performance, Smoothy sauntered into a story.
Piet Pimplebottom had had enough. Enough of the snide comments behind his back and his bottom. Enough of being the ‘butt’ of everyone’s jokes and their rear end ridicule. He was off the very next day to the department of Home Affairs to change his name. For once and for all and forever.
The next day he arrived at golf with a big smile and a fresh outlook on life. He had a new name now and a new fresh identity.
‘What is your new name now Piet?’ they asked.
“It is not Piet. It is Hennie. Hennie Pimplebottom.”
And so the lesson devolved into a different discussion mixed with mirth, and it diffused into confusion. He talked about two dogs he owned. A Basset Hound whose only thing longer than his ears and droopier than his eyes, was his scrotum. He was close to the ground in every way and moved only for food or a new position at the fire. His name was ‘Flash.’
The second dog was an English Mastiff, and at well over one hundred Kilograms, and struggling to fit through the doorway, was equally inaptly named ‘Twinkletoes’.
In a remarkable show of experienced timing, just seconds before the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson, Smoothy left us with an essay question for homework.
“Does your name define your character, or does your character define your name?”
The Penny had dropped. At least I knew a Penny, I hadn’t yet met a Rose, and although the bell had rung for the end of the lesson, the learning had only just begun.
Ever since then I have been held intrigued by names. We apparently even prefer the initials of our names to any other letters in the alphabet, and we are more likely to donate to relief efforts of hurricanes which carry the same name as us, or even begin with the same letter. Our names mean something to us, and a name is often the very first piece of information we have about someone. Through association and through past experiences, we can make up a whole story about someone at just the mention of their name, and we can do this in a few seconds. A high school bully or an ex-girlfriend. An inspiring mentor, a celebrity or a University crush. A close friend or that neighbor who still owes you money or someone with the same name as your children. All these characters may enter our consciousness in the briefest of moments, and we form instantaneous opinion.
During some recent family ailments and injuries, I had the misfortune of visiting four different hospitals in a shade over a week. They were all under the same company brand, and had the same set of values on the wall for all to see, and hopefully to live by. After greeting, the second value on the chart was:
“I always wear my NAME BADGE to show my identity.”
Without exception, the staff at all levels wore their name badges, and in places like hospitals, the ability to connect with someone quickly is often of great importance. If even for a friendly coffee made with love in the hospital eatery. We all know how it feels when someone remembers our name. We feel a boost of energy, and a surge in spirit – a sense that we matter to someone, that we are relevant and that there is significance in our identity. Sometimes I walk into a grocery store after a day of training and I’ve forgotten to remove my name badge. The cashier greets me by my name, and it stops me in my tracks. I feel worthy and that I belong.
I am sure the world would be a better place if we walked around with our names on our chests and close to our hearts. Our names are close to our hearts, and I am prepared to wager that our behavior would be far more tempered if we were constantly displaying our names. There might be some subtle accountability, and it would be highly conducive to connecting.
Everyone has a story, and there is some wisdom in the adage that when you know someone’s story, you most often see them in a far more positive light. Knowing someone’s story leads to more understanding, and more understanding increases tolerance and reduces hate. Our life stories begin with our very own name, and in Africa, so often, that name carries great meaning. If you are ‘Slindile’ it means your parents have been waiting, and if your name is ‘Zanele’, it means Enough, and you are unlikely to have younger siblings. The factory is closed.
It is not unusual to find people following the meaning of their names into their professions in a contended resignation and acceptance of their fate that they had no choice. It was simply my name, and therefore my destiny, they might say. I remembered the best golf caddie I probably ever walked with was at Leopard Rock in the Eastern Highlands of Zimbabwe. His name was ‘Advance.’ You don’t get a better name for a caddie, and his ABC of Attitude, Behaviour and Character were all about that part of his identity. He will advance in life even if it is barefoot, and especially if it is off the beaten track.
During Lockdown we had an issue with one of our locks. Ironic you would think until you hear the name of the locksmith who arrived on his motorbike and provided us with an essential service. His name? Havelock. You can’t script this stuff because in a sense it has been scripted before he was born.
My all time favourite coffee, ‘Bean There’, arrives at my house delivered by none other than ‘Future’ and nothing and no one could be brighter than his smiling face as he heralds an immediately bright future for me with great coffee.
On one of our first evenings out since lockdown has eased was at the Delta Café along the Braamfontein spruit at the Western edge of Craighall Park. It was a spectacular meal made even more memorable by the masterful service of ‘Masterpiece’. We all think our children are masterpieces, but few of us parents hand that name over to our children with belief and conviction that they will live into the heritage of their name.
Names carry meaning. They are precious to us in that they are the vehicle of our identity, and sometimes they tell a story. Ask someone their name today, and if you can, ask what it means. You will start a conversation, and conversation by conversation we strengthen community – and maybe we even build a country?
If our heritage is something we inherit, can there be anything more meaningful which we carry with us for our entire lives than our names given to us at birth?
I looked up the meaning of my own name. ‘Crown’ or ‘wreath’ came up first which I found totally uninspiring, but in digging a bit deeper, its origins lie in encircling, protecting and including. I now understand why I really love circular conversations around a fire under an African night sky.
Mr. Smith Sir, it has taken me over thirty years to pay proper attention to your question of whether your name defines your character, or your character defines your name. I apologise for my tardiness in handing in a considered response.
Steve Hall
With great thanks to Jeff Thomas aka ‘Sthombesejongosi’ for the help in translation. To understand his name, you simply have to be present. It is a theatrical performance.
And there is dancing involved!
P.S. I ran a webinar for a well-known pharmaceutical on the importance of greetings to establish a connection, a conversation and hopefully a long lasting relationship
