Junior League
Happy New Year, everyone.
For my entire life, I’ve had the same name as my father—except with a diminutive tacked on at the end.
I am a junior. Or, as normally depicted, “Jr.”
His name was—he’s passed away—Richard C. Goodman. My name is Richard C. Goodman, Jr. Being a junior made me feel like I everything I did, or had, was smaller. My brain, my accomplishments, my room, my penis—you name it.
After all, what does the word “junior” mean? “Of lower rank or standing,” says my dictionary. I didn’t have my own unique name. My brother, John did. My sister, Mary did. Even my dog, Nikki did.
Though I hated writing my name with “Jr.” at the end, I hated saying it more. My mouth would tighten when I got to the end of my name, like I was chewing glue.
“What’s your name?” someone would ask me in any number of daily situations.
“My name?”
“Yes. What…is…your…name?”
“Richard Goodman…Ju…Ju…”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
“Ju….ni…”
“What?!?”
“Junior, Godammit! JUNIOR!! Richard Goodman, JUNIOR!! There! Now, are you happy????”
At least—thank God for small favors!—they didn’t call my father Big Richard and me Little Richard. Imagine the taunts, living in the 1950s South, as I did: “You’re Little Richard! Well, Whop-bop-a-looma-a-whop-boom-bam!”
Here’s the worst, though: My father’s nickname was Dick. It almost makes me crazy to contemplate Big Dick and Little Dick. You may laugh, but my own aunt was called Little Elsa and her mother Big Elsa. It happens and not just in Tennessee Williams plays.
Parents, take ten minutes out of your day and give your newborn child his own frickin’ name. What is it with this ego-mania drive to give your kid your name? Quell that! He's not like a building to be named after yourself. Or a boat. He's probably not even going to be anything like you. You're a Republican businessman? Well, he'll probably end up acting off-Broadway, voting for whatever Bernie-like candidate who's running and picketing your company. By that time, you'll want him to have a different name. So, do it now and save yourself the trouble.
One of you is enough, don’t you think?
In my culture, your dad's name automatically becomes your middle name, and your granddad's becomes your surname, kind of so you can directly trace your lineage through names. So thankfully, this a specific problem that's avoided haha, unless someone wants to have the same middle and first name. I do find the idea of being called "Junior" very strange though, a little bit of me thinks names are a reflection of what the parent wants for their child ... let's go back to the drawing board people !
I wasn't named for my mother's sister (she's Elizabeth), but we do both go by Betsy. So, she was always Big Bets and I li'l Bets. I have been about 6 inches taller since the 7th grade, but the names have always stuck in the family. Now we call her (at 92) Grand Bets which connotes her status in the family and is a little gentler. I am still li'l Bets to some of my cousins ever though I tower over most. Grand Bets has always been a favorite aunt, so I never begrudged the connection or felt lesser than. Thanks for sharing and happy new year.