nicknames

It always helps to have skill in long term memory retrieval when attempting to tell stories about your own childhood. In the absence of such skill, however, I find that I can usually get by with piecing together stories told by family members and friends, with an added dash of imagination/ creativity/ total untruth. And thus begins my first blog about nicknames.

My mother totally went along with my dad's idea to name me Stephanie Jo. She said she had always wanted to have a cool 50's name like "Bobby Jo" or "Becky Sue." I suspect she envisioned her gorgeous baby girl, dressed in pink and frills, prancing daintily across a room. She'd call me "Stephie Jo," and I would have pig tails and an obedient, innocent smile.

Instead, she had me. This Stephie Jo refused dresses or pig tails, and often came home covered head to toe in mud. This Stephie Jo played soccer, and was always the general or the mother when playing make believe games like War or House. I was forever waiting for my mother to call shrilly, "Steeeeephieeeee Joooooo." And, more likely than not, I was caught in the act of something. The nickname became synonymous with getting into trouble. Needless to say, I HATED it.

While working at a summer camp during college, I earned a couple more nicknames. Some are obvious: Steppenwolf, Steffie Graf. The other, The Hostess with the Mostest, came about when letters were exchanged between the kitchen/ dining staff and the pool house staff. Some racy notes- all in code- were exchanged, and many fond memories formed. (I wish I could recall the names given to the pool boys, though...)

As a teacher, I gave up on getting kids to pronounce my last name (much less spell it), and went by Ms. G. On my birthday one year, I was presented with cards handmade by a class of third graders. Most had giraffes drawn on the front. When I asked the teacher, she explained that one of the kids had told the others that Ms. G. stood for Ms. Giraffe! From that point on, kids have traditionally given me giraffe themed toys and pictures, because I wink and tell them the G stands for giraffe. (We won't get into the seventh grade boys who called me Ms. Grumpy behind my back- all I can say is, they were the grampy ones, sitting outside the principal's door!:)

My Chinese name was given to me by the owner of the school I taught at: Zhou Ni (pronounced "jo-nee"). Yet, once I had made Chinese friends my age, I discovered that they often gave each other pet names, often doubling the second syllable. Thus, Chen Jiang became "Jiang Jiang" and Meng Dong became "Dong Dong" (seriously!). I was known as "Ni Ni," and to be honest, it's still my favorite pet name for myself. I think quite fondly of my days sitting in Chen Jiang's Tibetan Cafe, eating "American" food, and teaching my friend Kiki English. Or I think of visiting Lu Hui in Nanning, where she took me to a dance club with terrible music and even worse dancing. Or I picture walking the Great Wall with Wu Wu, a friend of Chen Jiang's, who dared to fight a taxi driver... and won! Each time, these friends called me Ni Ni with fondness.

And lately? I was called StephySteph for a time, which brings back memories of bookstores. My co-worker, Cris, has a fondness for changing up my nicknames at BBBS. I've been Graup Graup, Graup-a-nator, The Weiner (don't ask), and just plain Graupmann. Usually, I am Stephanie to those who don't really know me, and Steph for those who do. But I'm also learning to appreciate the idea of "Stephie Jo." Just don't expect pink or frills along with it.

Ever.