Say my name?

I’ve been thinking about my name lately. I received a text recently in which the person specifically referred to me as “Shaunacy”. That shouldn’t be unusual, as my name is, you know, Shaunacy. But it is. In speech and in text, it’s weird to use names. When talking to friends, I rarely use their name. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I said one of my good friends’ names aloud. At a certain point, it’s unnecessary, especially in text-based communication. Obviously we both know who I’m talking to when I’m sending you a text message, and to some extent an email. It took me years to start including salutations in my emails — what was the point? I wonder if it’s always been that way: are we learning to talk like we text or has it always been that way? I lean toward the former. The same principle applies to parents, in the way that you know you’re in deep shit if your middle name comes out.

In our pre-departure orientation for Russia this summer, they gave us a list of every teacher’s first and middle names. Memorize it as best you can, they told us. Russians use names a lot more in casual conversation, as if constantly reassuring you that they’re talking to you and not someone else. It’s impolite to refer to someone who’s within range as “she” or “he” — you have to use their name. Of course, I wasn’t often sure if my host mom constantly prefaced her comments to me with “Sasha…” because of that, or because I wouldn’t have understood that she was talking to me otherwise. But it was a stark contrast to my normal speech pattern.

At home, it just sounds weird. Formal, almost. When my best friend says my name it always sounds like a foreign word, so rarely do I hear it, so strange does it sound coming from a voice I know well. If I say someone’s name on the phone, it’s a question. Is that you? Hey. And then the actual conversation can start. Sometimes even in casual conversation hearing my name sounds canned, like I’m being sold something. When you’re trying to sell something, you look deeply into someone’s eyes and keep saying their name, to make them feel like you care about them personally. And in a way it does function as sort of an emphasis.

Shaunacy, I’ve lost my keys.
Shaunacy, you’re wrong.
Shaunacy, how are you?

Maybe it’s because I don’t know a lot of people named Shaunacy. Perhaps if my name were something more common, and I heard it more often, it wouldn’t be such a weird thing for me. But as is, I can go days without ever hearing my name. Is that normal? I guess it is. Names are an integral part of our identity. But sometimes I have trouble connecting mine to me. I wonder if I would be the same person if I were a Laura. A Michele.

I probably wouldn’t own laura.com, though.