What's in a name, moniker, title........whatever.
A recent discussion between women that centered around what they, as grandmothers, wanted to be called by their grandchildren AND what they wanted their own children to address them as has stayed with me, generating some thought of my own.
Do I really care how I am addressed as a grandmother or mother? Probably not. Having said that, I would take great umbrage to any loving name if it was delivered in an unloving tone. To me, tone and intent is everything when speaking to another human being. I can smell patronage, condescension and disrespect quicker than scat. But most respectful words would not phase me.
Long ago, in another lifetime, I taught in a public school where all of the traditional rules of decorum were, for the most part, set aside. I'm certain I've written about this experience before. Staff dress rules were 'relaxed', meaning that jeans were de-rigueur for all and ties were definitely optional for the men. Students were allowed to address all staff members by their first names. Because I also traveled to teach in three other schools that were traditional by nature, it gave me the perfect opportunity for school-culture comparison. I felt no less respect in the non-traditional school setting. No, let me rephrase that. I felt very respected in the non-traditional setting. The fact that I was addressed by my first name was a non-event every single hour of every single day. What I did learn that respect is internally measured and defined. It is a much of a reaction from me as it is an action (or spoken word) from another.
If it quacks, it is a duck.....if it moos, it is a cow.....if it oinks, it is a pig.....if it meows, it is a cat......if it woofs, it is a puppy and we all know how I feel about puppies. If it cries and lifts its arms, it is a grandchild and I am its grandmother.....granny.....nana.....grandma.....grandmere. Just love me back.....that is all I ask.
Ancora imparo
