Jack

What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

-Romeo and Juliet, act two, scene two.

My mother wanted to name me Jack. But by the rules of the Catholic Church in the 1950's - a practice also observed by most protestant denominations as well- I had to be christened with a saint's name.

To show how silly this is, technically I could have been christened Jarlath or Jucundus, but not Jack.

Jack is a nickname for John or, rarely, James. Jack may be derived from eleventh to fourteenth century names like Jackin or Jankin. Those may have developed from adding a diminutive "kin" to the French or German versions of "John." In Britain, from the Middle Ages, the nickname was so common that it was a synonym for "man" or "boy," as seen in phrases like "every man Jack of them."

And Shakespeare's Richard III - Act 1, Scene 3, plays with both words and social status: "Since every Jack became a gentleman There's many a gentle person made a Jack."

So as an infant with no say in the matter, the formalities were observed - I was officially named John - but I went through six years of life as Jack.

The beginning of the end came when I went to my first day at Saint Mary's Catholic grade school and met Sister Mary Josephenus, of the Order of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

She was a big, formidable woman, in full black habit robes - with a wimple - and enormous shoes. I have this fancy that she needed to shave. So I was terrified. I'd seen Nuns before, of course, but to a little kid costumes were all about Halloween and scary stuff.

I was introduced as Jack, and Sister Mary immediately corrected that to John and showed me to my seat.

As I moved into the new social world of school and friends I was known as John. Eventually close family succumbed to my new identity.

As an adult I've thought of switching back from time to time over the years, but fate intervened and I wound up working for someone named Jack. He was raised by the more liberal Jesuits and got to keep his name. Switching my own then would look just too sycophantic and would have caused confusion at the phone switchboard.

One doesn't usually have much freedom over their name, or even cause to think about it. I remember an aunt putting paid to a couple of divorces by petitioning a judge to legally re-adopt her maiden name. She asked the judge or her lawyer, "So am I now a Miss, a Mrs., or a Ms.?"

"Whatever you want."

So anyway, now I've got the chance to switch.

Hello, I'm Jack.