I may have made a mistake in naming my youngest son. Our oldest is adopted, so I didn’t get any practice before it was time to name young Gabriel. Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s a great name. It has cultural implications of power. It’s common enough people won’t mispronounce it, yet rare enough that there won’t be four of them in his first grade class. (Jasons out there shout out for getting why I find that last one important.)
But here’s the thing. He’s 18 months old now and really starting to get letter recognition beyond the ability to mimic what I say or perform parlor tricks that elicit positive adult attention over his ability to rote memorize.
He’s already got “W” down, in and out of context. I like to think it’s because of my fondness for Widmer beer, but that may be wishful thinking. And that’s where his name comes in.
We’re working on the letters of his name. My name starts with “J” — ju-ju-ju-jayson. My oldest starts with “D” — du-du-deejay. My wife’s name starts with “B” — bu-bu-bu-beverlee..
Gabriel’s name starts with “G” — ju-ju-ju-….uh….damn.
No wonder English is one of the only languages you can make a living teaching all over the world. It’s downright confusing.
Thanks for listening.