Small Stories about Big Things is a weekly newsletter all about the big stuff of life - delivered by way of the small, ordinary, and imperfect stories unfolding all around us.
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“Officially, legally… you’re Robert, right?” he asked.
“Yep,” I nodded.
“But you don’t go by Robert, Rob, or Bob,” he continued. “What the story there?”
The person asking knows I like a good story, and I’ve been known to tell a few in my day. But honestly, I had never thought about that question.
What’s the story of my name?
Or, more precisely…
What is the story of the name I go by?
Our name is one of the very first and most central impressions people have of us.
We hear a name and immediately, unconsciously, and more than we might admit, our own story about that person begins to emerge:
What happens when you see/hear…
Sanjay
Ken
Mai
Gertrude
Frederick
Diego
Gladys
Taylor
Charles
Ana
…?
Immediately we begin placing people. Ethnically. Generationally. Sometimes we hear a name, and we connect it to a famous person or the kid we sat next to in the 5th grade or the phrase of a famous song.
Or, sometimes the name just registers as different.
Always, though, our name lands significantly for every person who meets us, hears us, or hears of us.
And, of course, it lands significantly for us!
A person's name is to that person the sweetest and most important sound in any language. - Dale Carnegie.
It is worth considering, then, what our names (personal, brand, company, city - all of them!) mean to us. And, at its best, what do these names communicate to others?
Me?
Robert: My given, legal name in honor of both of my grandfathers: Robert Lippert and Robert Weatherbie.
Bobby: The official nickname for Robert. My parents called me that when I was young, at least in part because Robbie/Rob was off the table as that was my older cousin’s name.
By college, however, questions about my name came with more frequency. In adulthood, they still arrive a handful of times every year.
”So, do you go by Bob or Bobby?”
“Do you prefer Bobby or….”
“Do you ever go by Robert?”
At times, the tone has had a measure of incredulity to it. As if the person heard I was “Bobby” but surely I meant “Bob” because, you know, “Bobby” sounds…
fun… but maybe not serious?
great for growing up… but maybe less for growing old?
like a kid?
I resisted the invitation to change my preference for many years, but I also didn’t know why.
Instead, I told myself and others about all of the famous Bobbys I knew of:
“Yep, Bobby it is! Like Bobby Bonds. Or the ‘Don’t Worry Be Happy’ guy, Bobby McFerrin.”
(Bobby McFerrin)
See, Bobby works!1
I wish I could say I’ve also embraced Bobby because I found deep meaning in its official meaning: “bright fame.”
(Admittedly, this Substack will need to grow substantially for the “bright fame” thing to kick in. Though you are welcome to forward my work to your 100 closest friends if you'd like to help me catch up to my name’s calling :))
Truly, though, the definition has never been something I’ve thought a lot about.
If you want the story of my name - or your name - I am convinced the best place to look is to your stories. After all, individuals, groups, and entire corporations are not known most fundamentally by their stated mission, values, and goals - but by their actions and how the story unfolds through them.
Below are three, brief stories that say a lot about my name. I wonder what three you might choose from your life (or your company’s life) when helping explain your name’s significance?
Marching Band
I was the Co-Field Commander for the Marching Band during my senior year of high school. It’s a position that places great importance upon precise musicianship, vocal leadership, and large, clear movement. A Robert sensibility.
How did I live into this role?
I dressed up like Zorro to match the theme music for that year’s show. A mask, a cape, and some Latin dance flair at a couple of points on the drum major podium.2
Less formal, more fluid. A little more Bobby, somehow.
(Not me. But also not far from how I imagined myself.)
Military
I first wore the Army Battle Dress Uniform (BDU) in my college’s Army ROTC program. Pressed, starched, and worn properly, the uniform conveys a Robert sensibility.
My favorite way to wear it?
Sleeves rolled.
Yes, it helped make muscles look bigger than they really were, but mainly I appreciated that it was a little more casual. A little more relaxed. A little more Bobby.
(Not the BDU or sleeves rolled. But still, keeping it casual during my military days.)
Ministry
I was a pastor at three different Presbyterian congregations. There, I wore a black robe on Sundays and then led weekday evening meetings in accordance with Robert’s Rules of Order. Talk about laying it on thick with the Robert paradigm.
And I should take a moment here to say… I have nothing against the Robert paradigm!
Goodness, Marching Band, Military, and Ministry - these Three M’s are baked in good ol’ fashion Robert focus, discipline, and order which I appreciate.
It’s just that even though a whole lot of me has Robert within, the purest expression has what I’d call Bobby.
I’m not sure that was ever clearer than the summer I chose not to wear the clergy robe or use the traditional pulpit but instead brought the staff together to build a replica outdoor campsite at the front of the church.
We also rounded the congregational seating such that we mimicked a ‘stories around the campfire’ atmosphere.
Fittingly, the sermon series that summer was called Storytime. I wore jeans, stood at the ‘campsite,’ and preached from the parables of Jesus.
(Not the church. But a little of that summer’s vibe.)
—
A glance at three of my more significant time commitments over the past quarter-century makes clear a central part of my name’s story:
Both Robert and Bobby are 100% true, but oftentimes it seems…
Robert has been the structure, Bobby the soul.
Robert the context, Bobby the core.
Robert the house, Bobby the home.
I think I even like how the Bobby name itself3 bounces off the tongue in a way that suggests…
…a little less formality, a little more dance.
…a little less suit, a little more jeans.
…a little less measured, a little more s’mores around the campfire.
(the whole while Bobby is exceedingly grateful for the solid dose of Robert sensibility, structure, and order hanging out behind the scenes, too).
And so I’ve stuck with Bobby.
—
What about you? What is the story of the name you prefer?
Your personal name, yes, but perhaps also…
Your brand?
Your company?
Your team?
Every name has a story.
The better we tell that story, the clearer we are about our strengths, gifts, and best offerings in this world - and the easier it is for others to see, appreciate, and receive our gifts.
Truly, everyone gains when we’re deeply, fully at home with our name.
And, of course, when you’re deeply at home with your own name, you are free to invite another into the journey with that wonderfully simple and endlessly surprising question:
So, what’s the story of your name?
I generally kept mum on the Bobbys in legal trouble.
I mean - as much as a kid from the Midwest can muster Latin flair. So, let’s not get carried away with what unfolded…
Seriously. Say “Bobby” aloud a couple of times :)
Robert. Bobby. Grateful that Holy Spirit dwells and enlivens the ‘gestalt’ of you. This story encourages me to remember to rejoice in each person’s name and story.
BOBBY, BOBBY, BOBBY!
There, I hope that was uplifting! I thought it was fun. 😃 Thanks for making us take the time to look at our selves.
Ray