Why Nicknames?
“Why must we simplify others? Does ease have priority over individual choice regarding identity?”
“Kathy, would you please pass me a napkin?” my cousin Robert mischievously asks across the table.
Hearing the name “Kathy” sends a wave of frustration down my spine. He knows that I despise that name. Rather than giving him the reaction he desperately wants, I choose to ignore him. I continue eating my sandwich.
“Kathy, did you hear me? Please pass me a napkin,” he insists .
When he finally says, “Katherine, would you please pass me a napkin?” I gladly hand him the napkins across the table.
“If you do not respond to the name Kathy, what name will you go by?” he asks.
“Just Katherine,” I responded, confused as to why he expected me to automatically embrace the family nickname.
My answer never satisfies his question; each time, he hopes I will choose another name like “Katie,” “Kat,” or “Kate.” Why can’t I just be called Katherine? That is who I am.
I have always thought of my name, Katherine, as rather mundane. It is easily pronounced, usually shortened, and incredibly average. The only excitement I feel from my name is sharing that I spell it with a “K” instead of a “C.” Named after my great-grandmother and aunt, I recognize my name holds sentimental value. However, I do not understand why both shortened their name to “Kathy” in their adulthood.
While I consider it an honor to share a name with these inspirational women in my family, I am my own person. My name, Katherine, carries a profound significance to the world, reflecting my unique personality and characteristics. The name “Kathy” invites honest confusion and mistakes, as one might blend me with my aunt or great-grandmother.
When people constantly ask, “Why do you not abbreviate your name?” I always feel the need to defend my name. Katherine is a simple and common name, yet I still need to make it easier. I really did not think my name held such concern. However, the question makes me ponder the power of the name Katherine over “Katie,” “Kate,” and “Kat.” Katherine holds depth and authority; it demands respect. My name evokes an image of strength and dignity in my identity. In contrast, “Katie,” “Kate,” and “Kat” feel small and weak, which fails to reveal the complexities of my character.
In reality, I am not in condemnation of nicknames; I am simply a proponent of choice. Everyone should be able to choose the version of their name that best aligns with their identity and character. Despite the supposed freedom of choice, there is immense societal pressure to have the shortest, most straightforward name. Why must we simplify others? Does ease have priority over individual choice regarding identity?
I perceive my name as a label, one that meticulously organizes bins to indicate the exact contents. My name, Katherine, encapsulates my identity and lets everyone know the experiences that form who I am. Katherine is the label on my awards, certificates, and trophies, serving as a testament to my achievements. Each time I see my name written, it evokes a sense of pride and accomplishment. Receiving an award with “Katie,” “Kate,” or “Kat” would feel like receiving someone else's award.
Labels are not permanent fixtures; they can easily be removed or worn over time. However, changing the label on the box does not alter its contents. At the core, nicknames do not redefine an individual’s identity. The conception that adopting a nickname might make one more intelligent or popular is misconstrued since a person's character remains unaffected by simply changing their label. Each person maintains individuality and deserves to pick a name that aligns with their self-identity.
In the same sense, nicknames cause a form of disorienting blindness — not blindness in the literal sense, but rather the metaphorical sense. My blindness is like seeing through one eye. A nickname only reveals characteristics on the surface. The advantage of seeing through two eyes is depth perception. With two eyes, I would be able to see the inside of the persona and not the externally present facade. Monocular eyesight can obscure intricate aspects of identity, creating superficial or hyperbolized traits. These nicknames highlight a small portion of a person, negating the complexity of human beings. Nicknames facilitate alternate personalities across varying friend groups. Ironically, my brother, Stephen, goes by different nicknames with different groups of friends. To one group of friends, he is “Stevie,” the wild jock who is always ready for the next game, and to another group he is “Steve,” studious and constantly stressed with academic pressures. These nicknames negatively amplify very different personalities, creating a contorted perception that fails to represent his true self accurately.
Each group of friends only knows these negative identities, forming an incomplete and hurtful impression of himself. All of these friends are oblivious to the Stephen I see daily, a complex individual who values education yet embraces the joys of life. The blindness I experience to dual personalities forces me to present my authentic self at all times, and not just when I choose.
When examining the connection between nicknames and identity, it is interesting to observe the significance of seemingly simple names. Nicknames make identity fluid and multifaceted. This raises a critical concern of whether or not nicknames become the true definition of a person. While they can foster feelings of belonging, they can hinder how one is perceived. Nicknames can present a persona, leading a person to hide their authentic self. The name expressing identity differs for everyone, but evaluating whether that name reflects an accurate identity is essential.