My four-year old recently moved into a new classroom at school, and has been enjoying telling us stories about his new big boy and big girl classmates. He seems particularly attached to one friend he calls “Angry.” When he first mentioned her, I questioned the name–could it be Angie? Astrid? Anghard?? Or something else vaguely name-like? But he’s absolutely insistent that her name is Angry. And perhaps it is. I keep forgetting to ask his teacher, but I remember a similar story from a friend, whose son claimed to have a pre-school playmate named Door Knob, and was quite upset when my friend insisted this could not possibly be so. My friend checked with the school and found that the child’s name was, in fact, pronounced “Door Knob.” And who am I to question what people might choose to call their children? I am, after all, named Peryl, pronounced like and meaning the same as the english word “peril.” Not Pearl, not Carol, not Daryl, not Beryl, not Tarrel, nor Penny nor Phoenix nor any of the other things people have managed to mishear it as over the years.
Now, I’m not saying I didn’t like having an unusual name growing up, but I did choose to call my own children Jack and Alex, both in the top twenty or so of most popular boy names for sixty-two years running. Having a “Jack” as an older brother has had interesting reprecussions for Alex, by the way: he insists on doing “Jumping Alexes,” eating “Apple Alexes” and referring to the Jacks in a deck of cards as… well, you get the picture. The point is, though, that people can call their children just about anything–we shouldn’t have preconceived notions about what is or is not a “proper” name. I knew an Apple growing up, and so was not that surprised by Gwyneth Paltrow’s choice for her daughter. I did feel a little for the three-year-old I met recently who was named for the 17th Century philosopher Spinoza–not because I don’t like the name, but because he, like me, will spend his life spelling and explaining his name. But I have to admit that I am absolutely charmed by Moxie Crimefighter, daughter of Penn Jillette. If it wasn’t a logistical (and possible parental) hassle, I might in fact change my name to Moxie Crimefighter, I love it that much. So if my son’s classmate’s parents have chosen to name their daughter Angry (Angree? Engrie?), power to them. She’ll be a force to be reckoned with, like Moxie Crimefighter and me.
About Peryl Manning
I can totally relate! My name is Stacia (pronounced “Stay sha”) and I get all sorts of variations of Stacy. I’ve even gotten a “stack e ah.” My kids’ names are pretty easy: Finn and Beck. While I now love my name, it was a pain always correcting people on the correct pronunciation.
Twitter Name: saintacia
Now, my favorite are nicknames. I once knew a youngster who went by “Chard” as his full name was Richard. He didn’t like any of the traditional diminutives and so chose his very own.
My given name is Rachel and I have always hated being called by the diminutive “Ray”. There are various reasons I dislike that nickname not the least of which is that it just doesn’t fit. Recently, my closest friends have started calling me “Ra” for short. I really like it. It sounds like I’m being cheered on and I like it’s “sunny” associations.
That said, I really do enjoy unusual names because, when you get down to it, all words are names, aren’t they?
My father was determined to name me “September”, but my mother said “September Simpson” sounded like a stripper. And now, in my near-dotage, I think it would be cool to have an unusual name, but when I was growing up, I was really paranoid about what others thought of me. So if my name had been “September”, my nickname probably would have been “Angry”.