What's in a Name?

The memory is still vivid. It was 1979, in Greeneville, Tennessee. I was in the eighth grade and part of the Mosheim Elementary girls basketball team. Our team emerged victorious in the end-of-season Northside county tournament, having earned a big fat trophy that may or may not still be on display to this very day.

From Greeneville, Tennessee: The 1979 Northside
Girls Basketball Tournament Most
Valuable Player -- Lisa Carpenter

And every tournament has its star – the individual that garners the coveted “Most Valuable Player” award. Probably one of the biggest surprises I ever experienced in my lifetime is when the announcer called my name as the tournament’s MVP. I was honored. I was humbled. And most of all, I couldn’t wait to see the official documentation of my achievement the next day. That is, my name emblazoned within the pages of the city’s highly respected daily newspaper, the Greeneville Sun.

So when the paper arrived the next day, I expediently flipped through the sports section to the very page that contained the article on the tournament results. And there, in black and white, was the name the paper had listed as the girls tournament MVP – Becky Carpenter.

There’s only one problem with that. My name isn’t Becky.

My heart sank as I realized that the paper had gotten my name wrong. (How does one mistake Lisa for Becky?) My brief moment in the spotlight was spoiled. My brother actually called the paper to inform them of their mistake, but no correction was ever forthcoming.

I guess it seems minor, but to an eighth grader your name in the paper is a big deal – especially for such a major accomplishment. And it must have been a big deal, being that I still remember it.

If nothing else, though, I can take solace in the fact that newspapers screw up people’s names all the time. (Though the screw-up usually entails misspelling a name rather than getting the name entirely wrong.)

According to a recent article by Poynter.com, news organizations frequently run corrections for misspelled names, and in the case of famous people some have misspelled the same name dozens of times. Of recent: Warren Buffett, Michele Bachmann, Elliott Gould, Kanye West, and even Edgar Allan Poe! According to the Poynter.com article, anywhere from 14 to 20 percent of corrections that news organizations publish involve misspelled names.

So what’s the big deal? A lot, actually. Because it’s all about identity. Really, it’s a psychological thing. Take my case. I’m not Becky, I’m Lisa. So when the Greeneville Sun got it wrong, I felt deprived of my identity and the fact that the paper didn’t take the time and the care to get it right. It was as if the paper itself had poo-pooed my achievement.

One person who understood the psychology of this was my Journalism 101 instructor in college. He was an adjunct who was an actual journalist, and to this day I remember his one rule of thumb – a misspelled name was an instant “F” on an assignment. So you can bet that all of us in the class were particularly meticulous when it came to getting those names right.

And to this day, I’ve always been conscious about getting the names right in my writings. But in conceding that I’m human and make mistakes, there was an instance where I screwed up not one, but three names in an issue of an employee newsletter in one of my previous jobs. I really don’t know how it happened, as I thought I was being careful to get the names right. But in that instance I did screw up. And knowing how important it was to spell the names correctly, I guess I was fortunate not to get fired for that one. Fortunately, I kept my job and made amends by sending apology letters to each person whose name I got wrong (and, of course, I printed a correction in the next newsletter).  Okay, nobody’s perfect, I guess.

But back to my point. What’s in a name? As I ponder this I recalled that naming each of my three boys was an incredibly daunting task. Why? Because I had to get the name just right. I had to give each boy a name that would “fit” him. In fact, my policy about naming my babies was that I would wait at least a day before naming them, so that I could look at them and assess their temperament. It was only after taking this time to “get to know them” that I felt comfortable with issuing a name. In fact, my third boy was going to be either an Allen or a Ben. But after undergoing the get acquainted process, he ultimately ended up being a Sam. And his name fits him to a tee.

And now I have the three boys – Clay, Luke and Sam. Or, to get formal, I have Clayton, Lucas and Samuel. They are three solid, yet relatively basic names. And the last name is Huddleston (not Huddelston, a common misspelling for our seemingly simple surname).

So, for the reporters or writers who may someday write about any of my boys’ major conquests and awesome achievements (and believe me, you will), take note. They are all destined for greatness, so don’t screw up their names. The annals of history would be cheated.

And their mama would be a mighty bit miffed.