Lyle IS My Name

After all these years of not dealing with educational institutions (it has been awhile), I am facing the challenge of being unique. As multi-cultural as our world has become, it is fascinating to me that institutions still have limited name categories. The world of names is fascinating in and of itself; what with hyphenated names becoming more popular. And then there are the cultural differences in names. One would think that the increasingly global education market would force educational institutions to rethink the somewhat predicatable (and very Anglo-saxon) way that names are categorized.



I am fascinated when people take exception (or make what I find to be embarassing jokes) regarding names from other cultures which seem to mimic words from their own languages. An example of this is a new friend named Hai; pronounced like the English slang greeting: hi. To giggle or poke fun at this name is really sophomoric; and quite possibly antagonistic. While there is some confusion associated with the greeting, upon meeting: "Hi Hai!" it can only be due to one's own myopia.



The world is full of names. In fact, it is peculiarly human to categorize and name things. And this is where I run into problems with my name. The inflexible categories created by institutions never seem to fit me. And for that, I am chastised; something which I find particularly offensive. At registration at NewSchool of Architecture and Design, I was told that I could file a "nick-name" request. This points up a flaw in the institution's record keeping because I don't have a "nick-name."



While I realise that my name is a little uncommon, there is nothing nicky about it. It is not a shortened version, or a favorite or pet name created by some acronym or combination of names. Tradition, in my family, dictated my given name. And I have always, since birth (with the short term exception of a transition period when my identity was in flux during my teenage years) been called Lyle. During the period in question, one of my teachers tried to give me a real nick-name based upon my "institutional" name. This just didn't identify me and, in fact, was confusing to all those who already were using that nick-name for their own name. So I quickly re-identified myself as Lyle.


Then there is the uniqueness of being a professional interior designer with more than 20 years of experience practicing under my given name. Only when airlines started enforcing the rule of identification did I begin to create travel documents using my "institutional" name. I remember the akward moment when I received travel documents for a trip to a client's home in Michigan with my name all mixed up. This was after September 11, and clearly those documents would not admit me to the airplane. Thankfully the airline was able to correct the error. Since then, I always make sure every one clearly understands my name. My name is Lyle; it is my given name. The only thing particularly unique is that I am not called by my first name (which I will from now refer to as my "institutional" name).

This rant will probably have no impact upon the institutions which create name records. I am certain that, in these tough economic times, there are issues of far, far greater importance. If perhaps ones own consciousness is raised, as mine has been recently by meeting Hai, the possibility of a future in full recognition of the significance and meaning of names will exist. And maybe, just maybe, an institutional record will be created that fits my name.