Three weeks into the school year, I am faced with my hardest task. With standardized tests and increasing expectations for all teachers, how can there be a single “hardest” task?
Simple. With 162 new students each fall, my biggest challenge is learning their names. It takes me weeks — at least. Some classes are easier than others. The class with four Stephanies, a Kate, and four Katies — some of the “Katies” are actually “Caities” — has me stumped, yet my first period’s names were easy to learn.
I wouldn’t fret, except that students really care about this. Every Stephanie and Katie knows perfectly well she bears no resemblance to her namesake across the room. But to me they are part of a sea of faces whose individual characteristics I have yet to distinguish.
The trick is to mentally make students look like their names. On the first day of school, I thought Rachel looked like a Rachel. Perhaps I had once known a Rachel with a superficial resemblance — or maybe my mind tricked me into thinking she had Rachel-like features, but I have never slipped on her name.
Sam and Chuck were easy, too. With twins, it should be a challenge, but early on they just looked different to me. (But nearby are James, Alex, and Greg, and I still flounder with them.)
Allie wrote a college essay about a trip to the Negev desert where the stars looked like “bullet holes in black velvet.” When she read her essay aloud, she was wearing a constellation T-shirt. I will never forget her name now that I associate her with that great piece of writing and the night sky.
Kristin doesn’t look anything like her sister Heather, whom I taught two years ago. When I finally learned her name yesterday, I remembered having a conversation with her about Harry Potter the week before. It wasn’t until she put Harry Potter in writing that I linked name to face to writing to previous conversation. The multiple connections will fix her name in my head.
Each year, I am surprised how offended students are when I get their names wrong. The last 10 or 15 identities out of the 162 are the hardest. It’s not that I don’t like them, or think they’re not smart; the names I learn quickly are often arbitrary. The earlier in the day I see a class of students, the better my memory for them.
The first two days I knew Abby’s name, then forgot it. She looked so hurt when I said, “Remind me of your name,” that I have vowed never to get it wrong again. Sorry, Abby.
What’s in a name? Romeo claims “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Names do delineate identity on several levels, so I don’t approach this task lightly. But it’s only through dialogue that identity forms enough for students to begin to look like their names. So every fall I ask the students’ indulgence as I gradually construct a mental image that precisely fits the only name they could possibly have — their very own.
Erica Jacobs teaches at Oakton High School and George Mason University. E-mail her at [email protected].
