Wat yo name?

Can I have yo numba?

πŸ˜€

In thinking about a comment I made on a post the other day, I lied. Actually in the words of Roger Clemens, I misremebered πŸ™‚ As a student I was never shy about speaking in class. Presentations were a different thing, usually because the success of the presentation depended on everyone doing their part.

Please, maybe another day I’ll walk down that road. Group presentations, Β much more treacherous in college than high school. Β That was my experience, Β any whose πŸ™‚

Getting back to the topic: Wat yo name?

In college, a few professors actually made it a point to learn names. Not many, but some. I must say, giving credit to those professors that didn’t even make eye contact with anyone in the class, I learned a lot in those classes too; but then, I’m just a learner. Okay, enough about me.

As a freshman in college, I have a few very fond memories. Two classes I had are memorable for maybe the wrong reasons, but they are good memories to me πŸ˜€ My astronomy professor and my philosophy professor used to call on me on a regular basis in class. They called on everyone in their classes. Participation was a valued and graded part of their classes. They usually called people they thought would actually add to whatever the discussion was. They never, to my recollection, tried to “gotcha” anyone. After the first few classes, they had a sense who wanted to speak and who didn’t. They learned names, quickly!

Unfortunately, Β or fortunately, Β they never learned my right name πŸ˜€

For several hours a week I was either Robert or Steve πŸ™‚ I did correct each professor a couple of times early on, to no avail. Classmates also chimed in several times thereafter; still no luck πŸ˜€ In each case, as some of you might have guessed, in the recent past one had a Robert Santos and the other had a Steve Santos in their class. I assumed both those young men were also both handsome and loquacious ν ½πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜œπŸ˜œ

I did well in both classes. No problem marking the grade book correctly. That’s all that really matters. Well, grades, and paychecks. Speaking of paychecks with the right name … 😜

My first teacher job, the principal that hired me was at a meeting or something on the first day (ikr!) The assistant principal walked me around and introduced me as Mr. SANCHEZ. I just smiled, nodded, shook hands with everyone and went on my way. First paycheck came, Raymond Arthur Santos

Sweet, all is well

One day, about a month into the year, assistant principal literally comes flying through my classroom door. “YOUR NAME’S NOT SANCHEZ,” “I know.” “I’VE BEEN CALLING YOU SANCHEZ FOR OVER A MONTH NOW. WHY HAVEN’T YOU SAID ANYTHING!?” “Well, I figured, check came with the right name so, no big deal.” πŸ˜€

Names are funny. ANdrea, anDREa, MIchelle, Β miCHELLE,

As long as they mark the gradebook or pay stub right, I’m good

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