The Student News Site of Menlo School

The Coat of Arms

The Student News Site of Menlo School

The Coat of Arms

The Student News Site of Menlo School

The Coat of Arms

Why name-confusion in class is just not me

It’s a weird feeling, sitting in class, raising your hand to comment on something, and then being called by your older brother’s name instead of your own. It has always happened to me. Ever since elementary school I have always followed my brother’s footsteps, gone to the same schools, taken some of the same classes, and had the same teachers he had. I still have not come to terms with the false name-calling.

Sometimes it’s a nuisance.  When I don’t have the energy to correct the mistake, I let whomever catch the mistake on their own.  Now that my brother has graduated and is in college, more and more teachers are not only calling me by the wrong name, but after I correct them, they reply with a nostalgic “sorry” and follow by asking how he is doing.  In the moment, I feel as though I am being measured against and compared to my brother.  By focusing on how he is doing, my academic record becomes less and less important in comparison to those before me.  I long to be seen by teachers as an individual with a family history at Menlo, rather than a secondary, lesser addition to a once great student.  Despite this, sometimes my sibling pride comes out, and I am proud to be connected to an alumni.

Teachers do need to remember hundreds of names and connect them to hundreds of faces, but I can only speculate that for teachers, there is a constant memory of the past.  As my brother moves deeper and deeper into the past of Menlo, his graduation date fades, turning into only a vague morning in the loop. This year, I have many new Menlo teachers, who have never known my brother nor his class, making it impossible for me to be called anything but Andreas. Every now and then, I run into a time-tested educator who falls for the classic mix-up. This mistake plagues many younger siblings, always being called names of students past. I wonder if by the time I become a senior, the days of the name confusion and inheriting my brother’s name will be gone forever.

I believe I will deeply miss this confusion if or when it goes away. Even though it is such a seemingly pointless minute of my day, the short break serves as a moment of meditation, a chance to collect my thoughts before the class moves on. I will always hold onto this confusion and hope for it to reappear in my following years at Menlo.  Hopefully, on the first day of school my senior year, I will be bombarded with “You’re a Katsis, right?”

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