What’s in a name?

THE EDITOR, Madam:

Have you ever pondered the thought: What’s in a name?

Most of us were given a nickname from childhood that has lived with us, and oftentimes we get so used to that nickname that after a time, some of us do not even remember the biological name.

I was looking up a gentleman’s name in the telephone book earlier this month and you know what, I could not find it because I had only known him by his nickname.

Now I read a story in The Gleaner last week about a triple murder in Westmoreland, reportedly a gang-related matter. The whole time that the rampage was taking place, the mother was reported to be on her knees praying for her two daughters – the sisters of the targeted young man, a father of five children – that the girls would not be attacked.

The gunmen reportedly found the target while leaving, and shot at him under the bed where he was subsequently discovered.

What struck me most of all in the story was the nickname of the youngster. His nickname was ‘Rubbish Heap’ – probably a name he had since childhood.

I wondered, with a name like that, what was his self-perception and how did he see his life? Is it possible that he lived out the name he was given, that the seeds of his destruction may have been sown even when he was a small child?

So many children have these names planted in them and have lived all their lives with these derogatory labels.

Please, people, be careful of the nicknames we give others and try to see how the outcome of a person’s life can be thus affected.

Could a name even be partially responsible for fuelling crime in our country?

Think on these things.

CYNTHIA BURTON