Cecil v. Craig

So it is happening again. Yesterday my boss called me Cecil twice! Well, actually she called me Cecil Craig the first time, saw me cringe, and thought it was funny to call me Cecil again at the end of the day. This is all fine and well, but she doesn’t know about the Cecil virus and that a joke here and a joke there will result in more people calling me Cecil – likely permanently – and an inevitable name-identity crisis.

I know this all sounds overly-dramatic, but it has been happening for years. By way of background, I do not like the name Cecil. My mother calls me Craig, and in fact also hates the name Cecil; the rest of my family calls me Craig. Certainly, my name is Cecil Craig Jackson III. It is best put in Spanish – mi nombre es Cecil; me llamo Craig. I call myself Craig. Simply Cecil sounds like an old persons name akin to Grady or Virgil; if I were white, it’d be like the name Walter. It doesn’t suit how I see myself. My father doesn’t even go by the name Cecil. My father is (or was RIP, Dad) CJ, or Junior, or I even heard one of his [many] girlfriends call him Craig. I didn’t much like that and shot him a death (no pun intended) stare, I saw the guilt in his eyes and he understood. My grandfather goes by Cecil. But he is my grandfather. His name could just as well be Grady or Virgil.

Anyway, I always introduce myself as Craig. Even when people introduce me as Cecil, they say – “this is my friend Cecil”, I shake their hands and say “I’m Craig, nice to meet you.” It starts off every new such encounter on an awkward note. I love it. Anyway, from that point on, the battle ensues – will they call me Cecil or will they call me Craig? It shouldn’t be a battle, but it always is. I feel like Cecil-people try to recruit other Cecil-people. They shouldn’t, but they do. Cecil people say they like it, it’s unique. No fucking duh, it is unique; very few people are named Cecil in our generation for a reason, it doesn’t belong!

But it has to be something more than just that – it is. I like the name Craig because it is boring, plain, and suits my mid-west conservative (I vote Democrat, so leave me be) background. Further, kids in Ohio would always make fun of me when they found out my name is Cecil. I’d never tell them, but it always happened that we’d have a substitute teacher – the idiot would clearly see the name Cecil slashed out in red ink with Craig written next to it and still call for my attendance under the name Cecil. There would be silence, people would look around, and I would try to quickly raise my hand – it would be over! Kids would say it in a funny tone and tease me in only the way kids tease by saying my name over and over again in a sing-songy tone until I wanted to cry; people even called me see-saw. It wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t even participate in friendly hazing without someone shooting back – “Ce-cil!” It spoke for itself.

I had more success in college. I’ve built a strong Craig contingency among my Kenyon friends. In Chicago, less luck. I had my college friends and a few friends from high school in Chicago who called me Craig, but the freaking bank, despite my request put Cecil Craig Jackson on my business cards, my name plate, and on all my orientation materials. I pushed for Craig, but oddly most of my closest friends from the bank call me Cecil. Law School was just like grade school. There are volumes written to support the notion that law school is nothing but a reversion to grade school – lockers, cliques, eating in the cafeteria, crushes, etc., etc. Needless to say, I graduated from American with a split – half Cecil and half Craig. I’d say my closest friends call me Cecil, which encourages others. I’ve often been pulled aside by Craig-friends who tell me they feel like an “outsider” being the only person calling me Craig. I tell them they are much appreciated.

Anyway, I’ve ranted for paragraphs about this. The point is, I am Craig at work (actually my business cards say C. Craig Jackson – which I know probably begets curiosity) and I want it to stay that way. One other kid knows my first name and, as we were joking back and forth, said “don’t make me call you by your first name.” He attended a Historically Black College and understands a name like Cecil is social suicide.