Nicknames
The first of them all was 'Little Hoffy.' I was 7 years old, and had been placed in a class full of older kids: 3rd and 4th graders, most of whom seemed world-wise and, relative to me, disturbingly large. After a playground game in which the bigger boys ganged up on me, the 4th grade girls decided to offer me some protection. I became their Little Hoffy (a play on my last name), tiny and adoring; they became my muscle. Being called Little Hoffy made me feel safe and wanted. But it was also a role I was playing: a little bit me and a little bit pretend. And of course it was socially limiting: I could never be an equal with the other boys or girls with a nickname like that.
My next nickname was given to me in 5th grade by the class bully. He handed out all the nicknames. I was new to the school and came across (at least to him) as kind of a brain, so he called me 'Poindexter,' after the glasses-wearing child scientist from the cartoon series Felix the Cat. I was grateful for this. I liked being considered smart, and a lot of his other nicknames were far less flattering: Cow, for example, or 'Where's My Shoe?' I was proud when a new student joined the class mid-year and, after we started hanging out together, he was given the nickname Poindexter II. But 'Poindexter' was like Little Hoffy: sort of affectionate yet also distancing. I wanted badly to be accepted by my peers, and the name Poindexter was more of an invitation to fulfill a 'nerdy kid' stereotype.*
There were other nicknames over the years, each implying its own combination of acceptance and distance, real and pretend. In high school I was 'Larry,' one of The Three Stooges (my two best friends were Moe and Curly). For a while in college I was Casper, as in The Friendly Ghost, a nickname I earned by being the rare white guy to participate in SGA election campaigns for certain students of color. I remember being surprised when my friend (and SGA President) Dean Florez told his supporters to stop calling me that because he believed it unfairly pigeonholed me. "David is a friend, and a member of our team," he said. "He's not just a Casper."
For a long time after college, the occasional nickname would be thrown my way, but I rarely took the bait. I was becoming more comfortable just being me, and didn't feel so much need to play a character in order to maintain the pseudo-acceptance of my peers.
In recent years, though, another name has emerged: some SGA members and other students call me 'D-Hoff.' The thing I like about D-Hoff is that it does not seem to encompass a subtle put-down. It names neither a character nor a version of me that is not the whole. D-Hoff strikes me as more a statement of affiliation, embracing my preference for being addressed informally: no 'Mr. Hoffman' for me, thank you very much. It's a nickname I feel no need to outgrow. At last.
How about you: Any nickname stories you'd like to share?
*Incidentally, Poindexter II (my friend John) wrote the movie Anonymous, about the authorship of Shakespeare's plays, which you'll probably see advertised quite a bit in the next few weeks.
My next nickname was given to me in 5th grade by the class bully. He handed out all the nicknames. I was new to the school and came across (at least to him) as kind of a brain, so he called me 'Poindexter,' after the glasses-wearing child scientist from the cartoon series Felix the Cat. I was grateful for this. I liked being considered smart, and a lot of his other nicknames were far less flattering: Cow, for example, or 'Where's My Shoe?' I was proud when a new student joined the class mid-year and, after we started hanging out together, he was given the nickname Poindexter II. But 'Poindexter' was like Little Hoffy: sort of affectionate yet also distancing. I wanted badly to be accepted by my peers, and the name Poindexter was more of an invitation to fulfill a 'nerdy kid' stereotype.*
There were other nicknames over the years, each implying its own combination of acceptance and distance, real and pretend. In high school I was 'Larry,' one of The Three Stooges (my two best friends were Moe and Curly). For a while in college I was Casper, as in The Friendly Ghost, a nickname I earned by being the rare white guy to participate in SGA election campaigns for certain students of color. I remember being surprised when my friend (and SGA President) Dean Florez told his supporters to stop calling me that because he believed it unfairly pigeonholed me. "David is a friend, and a member of our team," he said. "He's not just a Casper."
For a long time after college, the occasional nickname would be thrown my way, but I rarely took the bait. I was becoming more comfortable just being me, and didn't feel so much need to play a character in order to maintain the pseudo-acceptance of my peers.
In recent years, though, another name has emerged: some SGA members and other students call me 'D-Hoff.' The thing I like about D-Hoff is that it does not seem to encompass a subtle put-down. It names neither a character nor a version of me that is not the whole. D-Hoff strikes me as more a statement of affiliation, embracing my preference for being addressed informally: no 'Mr. Hoffman' for me, thank you very much. It's a nickname I feel no need to outgrow. At last.
How about you: Any nickname stories you'd like to share?
*Incidentally, Poindexter II (my friend John) wrote the movie Anonymous, about the authorship of Shakespeare's plays, which you'll probably see advertised quite a bit in the next few weeks.
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Posted: October 9, 2011, 5:29 PM