Names are common for a reason, others like them too

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When it comes to names, I’ve always been the black sheep of the family. Both my mother and father had uncommon names — which was a real advantage in the days before the do-not-call list, as you could easily tell who was a telemarketer when they butchered the names. Two of my sisters were adopted from different parts of the world, and my parents gave them names to reflect their heritage.

Yet, when it came to my turn, my parents — proud of their British heritage — decided to stick with a tried-and-true English name.

I became a James.

Growing up, it took me years to figure out that not everybody had to deal with situations such as hearing your name being called out and most of the time finding the person isn’t looking for you. It just seemed normal to be one James in a sea of them.

In my second-grade class, there were three other Jameses. Given that one of them was a James Hunter, I even got used to the fact that I couldn’t necessarily be James H., and had to go for the full James Harrison when the teacher wanted to call on me.

The thing is, even after I realized not everybody has to deal with the same confusion and mistakes, I still didn’t mind. I love my name.

Once I took in the fact that I possess one of the more common names, I simply decided it’s common because people realize it’s a great name. To me, the name James signifies dignity and class. It’s the name of kings and knights. Even though I’m not a religious person, I love the fact that it stretches back to the Bible. It has the weight of history behind it.

A further value of having a common name is avoiding the Google trap. In this age where everything you’ve ever posted on the Internet can last forever, and future employers utilize Google.com to study your past, having the name of many other people helps quite a bit. Throwing my name into Google, it took me 50 pages before I found something that related to me.

Of course, some would argue finding two sex offenders before coming across me may not help.

That’s not to say being a James doesn’t have its problems. Foremost among them: People’s annoying habit of assuming that when they see the letters J, A, M, E and S together it’s pronounced “Jim.”

Let me tell you this right now: Just because someone is named James does not mean they like being called Jim. It does not give you the authority to call them Jim. No offense to those who go by Jim or like being called it — as a kid, my best friend was actually a Jim — but I feel Jim lacks the dignity of the name James. James seems to have power behind it. Jim sounds too folksy to me.

This dislike is vaguely ironic, given that one of the reasons my parents chose my specific name was because of a family friend who actually went by Jim.

Still, if fighting the name Jim is the price of having the name James, I’ll gladly pay it. My mother was saddled with a name that she freely admits she hates. Every time she says this, I experience a measure of cognitive dissonance. It just doesn’t process. I can’t understand hating your name.

I may be one face in a sea of Jameses, but I’m a happy face. And isn’t that what matters in the end?

Defend the dignity of Jim to entertainment reporter James Harrison at harri310@msu.edu.

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