Most nicknames can be hurtful

IN PRIMARY school and part of my high school years, my nickname was Old Man.

I was not the sporty type. When football was played on the hard, gritty ground at the old Chatsworth Government-Aided Primary School, I would sit on the sidelines, at best as a reserve player, but most times I took care of the other players’ belongings.

Also, I would not remove my blazer at school, even on the hottest days. Hence, Old Man or Thatha (Tamil for grandfather) was the nickname I earned for my laid-back or sluggish mannerism.

I detested the nickname, which was bestowed upon me by a class bully. I was the youngest pupil in the class for several years and dared not retaliate physically or verbally.

Mercifully, in the middle of my high school years, I changed schools. There was nobody from the old school at my new school. Hence my nickname did not accompany my transfer card.

Nicknames are a damaging aspect of school life. Most nicknames express contempt or dislike, while others draw upon physical characteristics.

My brother was thin and lanky. His nickname in primary school was Skeleton, which he despised. In later years, he engaged in bodybuilding and his figure filled out. It was his way of rebelling against the negative label.

Another boy, who had long legs and walked awkwardly, was called LLD. This was short for Long-legged Donkey. A boy in my class, who wore thick spectacles, carried the nickname Four Eyes.

The head prefect at high school was of “ginormous” build. For being tall and muscular, he was named Monster. A temperamental boy, with a learning disability, he would go ballistic when we called him Kilroy – after the supposed madman-genius, who would apparently leave solved mathematical problems and scribbled Shakespearean quotes on walls in the neighbourhood.

A fortnight ago, the parents of an overweight Western Cape boy removed him from a public school and enrolled him at a private school after a teacher allegedly called him an elephant.

The mother of the 10-year-old, who attended Panorama Primary School in Parow, said after a teacher uttered the words, “If you all want to behave like monkeys” to a group of boys playing in the corridor, she looked directly at her son and said, “and elephants, then you all belong in the zoo”.

But the principal and the teacher told the parents, in two separate emails, that the remarks were not directed specifically at their son, who was in Grade 4, but at the whole group of boys.

The teacher apologised but the boy’s father rejected her apology.

The pupil subsequently refused to play rugby and his marks dropped in class. The break times became unbearable as he suddenly had the nickname Elephant.

Name-calling and unkind nicknames are hurtful because they threaten the person's identity, be it a child or an adult. A nickname can be a form of verbal harassment and may represent the most prevalent form of bullying in school.

I remember many moons ago when, as rookie journalists, we killed boredom by calling the potato prices section of the municipal bulk sales fresh produce market, and asked for Mr Spud.

Of course, there was nobody by that name, but it made the market master, who answered the phone, see red.

My erstwhile colleagues also called the Gale Street mortuary in Durban and asked for Mr Slab. The profanities on the other end of the line must have been sure to stir the dead.

With hindsight, these were silly pranks to indulge in because even playful mockery or teasing about one's name can hurt.

But then, in those days, there were no TVs in the newsroom, smartphones to play games on, and no internet to while away the time.

A person's name is the greatest connection to their own identity and individuality. We build one of the closest associations with our own names, from early on in our lives. We carry a name bestowed by our parents with pride and happiness.

Calling someone properly by their name – especially when that name is not very familiar to your ears – is an act of recognising the uniqueness of each individual and respecting their personal stories.

Disrespecting a person’s name is tantamount to being disparaging to the individual.

When second and third generation descendants of the indentured Indians sought better-paying jobs as clerks, waiters and artisans, they faced humiliation and ridicule when white bosses rechristened them without consent.

The employers just didn’t bother to make the effort to learn the pronunciation and remember Indian names.

They could not easily recall Ramsamy, Chinsamy, Moonsamy or Dorasamy. Hence, all these names were instantly changed to Sammy.

Paulal became Paul, Baboolal was renamed Bob, and Nundkishore metamorphosed into Nick. Those with a worthy Indian name such as Rabindranath – think Rabindranath Tagore, the Bengali poet, shortstory writer, song composer, playwright and painter who won the Nobel Prize in Literature – soon saw themselves answering to Robin on the factory floor.

I have several relatives who were in the catering trade and they all assumed English names such as Thomas, Stanley and Tommy to keep their bosses happy – and, in so doing, keep their jobs.

All Indian women, who were hawkers of fruit and vegetables in white suburbs, were called by the common and derogatory name, Mary. Never mind that they may have had meaningful names such as Parvathy, Aarathi, Ambigay, Sitadevi Vidyawathie and Saraswathi.

This situation in South Africa was not dissimilar to William and Mary, which were used on slave plantations in West and Central African societies to refer to African males and females.

Some nicknames can be positive and life-changing. A smile can be brought to the face of a child as a much deeper, positive meaning is recognised.

My mother used the sweetest names for all children – her own and others. Some of her pet names were Kanna, which is one of many childhood names of Lord Krishna; Kanmani for an adorable little girl; and Raja, which is a royal title equivalent to king or princely ruler.

My favourite moniker for my daughter is Kutty, which means a cute baby or child in Tamil.

Beta is a common Hindi pet name and translates to “my child”. Another phrase, “Meri Jaan”, which means “My Life”, is also a term of endearment. Some names which have no meaning, but sound affectionate, are short and end with “u” or “oo” – Golu, Babloo, Ajju, Gopu, Ballu, Neelu, Tinu and Rinku are common.

I almost forgot to mention that my wife nicknamed me Champ after actor Jon Voight’s memorable role as an ex-champion boxer who made a comeback. Yes, Champ was the first movie we watched together, way back in 1979.