ROBERT, ROBB BUT NEVER BOB

I attended a social event this weekend, billed as a “meet and greet” for mainly retirees but open to anyone seeking connection and the need to expand their social circle.  As an early retiree, I’ve come to realize how much of my social life was tethered to my career.  It’s one of those things while you work you take for granted, the social aspect, morning catching up over a cup of coffee, having lunch together and afternoon hallway chats of shared deadlines.  Let’s face it men tend to have smaller social circles than women.   As we get less young, these social circles shrink, even harder to meet people and making new friends becomes increasingly challenging.

Those of you who know me, are quite aware, especially if you traveled with me, I’d sooner be an hour early than a minute late.   I arrive at the venue about twenty minutes, ok half hour before the event actually officially starts to allow myself time to account for traffic (there was none), should I need to stop for anything (a last minute Jardiance run) and to allow myself enough time to calm my nerves down.  This social introvert puts on a great show meeting new faces but unless you live my life you don’t realize the effort, I put in to be ready to mingle and at the end how much it drains me.  About the Jardiance run - Google Jardiance side effects and then you will know. 

Within fifteen minutes more than two hands full of people already entered.  So I proceed to enter the hall.  Once entered there was a long card table serving as the check-in and registration desk.  I proceeded to the table and was acknowledged by a woman my age who was too happy, perhaps she already had her maximum caffeine and/or sugar intake for the day.  She proceeded to give me a lanyard and requested I find my name tag and put it on for the duration of the event.  The name tags were printed in an easy readable bold large font in a cobalt blue color.  Some name tags had a ribbon on the bottom of the name tag with their rank in the club.  The colored ribbon perfectly aligned with the name tag itself shared various titles including club officers, some as guests from other chapters and some with years of service involvement.  All this flashed me back to high school extra-curricular activities for a brief moment.  It only took a matter of seconds for me to find my own name tag. 

 

            “I found mine, it says Bob.  Now, here’s the thing, I don’t go by
            Bob.  I never have.  My e-mail signature says Robert as do my
            professional documents.  My closest friends may call me Robb
            But Bob?  That’s a name I never claimed to have ownership to. 

I asked the polite yet overly happy woman at the desk if she had a spare blank name tag to correct my first name.  The smile turned into a frown as if I asked to borrow her last dollar to selfishly get a bottle of water in the middle of a desert.  Without skipping a heartbeat, she said, 

            “No!  The names were taken off the event’s pre-registration e-mail
            and I was specifically told by the club’s president to use the names
            from the e-mail and that’s what I did.”   

 

I highly doubt she took my name from my e-mail as all my e-mail setups to e-mail signature always say, “Robert” not any deviation or abbreviation as I have gone by Robert in both academic and career all but one year.  When my family moved to Toronto, for the start of my Grade 2 year, for whatever reason I was called “Bobby.”  I digress.  She refused to change and the frown started to look like more of anger as I tried to justify my case.  I attempted to explain but it all fell on her deaf ears.  

 

            “Only my parents called me ‘Bobby’, a handful of family and a few
            very close family and friends who are nothing short of family who
            still see me as the little boy I once was.” 

 

Informally, I will accept Robb, my official signature is Robert W Kovacs, formal situations, Robert and lastly formal for certifications etc is Robert William Kovacs.   

 

I digress. 

 

Upon not issuing me a new name tag, I politely thanked her and moved on into the main room for the introduction and opening key note speaker.  During the opening key note, I kept ruminating on the situation in my head what gave them the right to rename me and assume my name is “Bob” as opposed to “Robert” or worst-case scenario, “Robb.”  

 

They divided the entire audience into four sections based loosely on the registration questionnaire.  This was not a looking for a dating relationship or possible romantic connection more of a professional networking event for retirees to reengage into the social scene and make new friends.  It has been said men compared to our counterpart women have traditionally have less friends and participate in social activities outside of their work or immediate family gatherings.  As we get older and retire from our careers, we become less social and to complicate matters, its even harder to make new friends.    

 

I am an early retiree; I can concur on both as I didn’t realize how much of my social life revolved around my career and I didn’t really do much to expand my friendship circles since high school.  

Being a full-time career employee and providing my Mom a break by giving respite care for my Dad until his passing in 2016 and now helping my Mom through her own health issues.  Even though my Mom is fiercely independent and blessed she is able to most things on her own, she’s been through quite a bit of health issues which interrupted her independence.  With that being said, I also saw most of my closest friendship circle move on and out of South Florida for careers, marriages or a chance to try something new while I stayed within the same area since Grade 8.  I was blessed with a great career with the YMCA for just over forty years and was exposed to a variety of positions and have a legacy I am very proud of, I missed out the chance to be exposed to new people, new companies, new cities, etc.,  Yet, I don’t regret any of the choices I made, I am just learning to adapt to my new journey.  

 

Ironically, the keynote speaker’s topic was quite along the same lines of stating to put our needs first after years of putting careers, families and other items before our own needs.  

 

The one takeaway resonated with me. 

 

            “Today is the gift of the present.  Make it count as the day you
            do something for yourself first as tomorrow is never guaranteed.” 

 

Later, after the keynote, we separated into the four breakout groups.  I inferred the four groups were based broadly on our work experiences and loosely on our educational attainment and to even a lesser extent of other factors from the questionnaire.   The groups varied from fifteen to twenty-five participants a facilitator.  The group facilitator asked us to form a circle and face each other.  Immediately, I felt as I was now a participant in a first day of summer camp where everyone started out as strangers and by end of camp became best friends. 

 

           “Once we make our circle, I need a volunteer to start the ball rolling.”  

 

As the facilitator threw a nerf ball tossed randomly to the first person the facilitator asked us to answer questions of ourselves,  

 

             “State your name, what kind of career/job you had recently, a 
            hobby/interest and something unique about you.”  

 

You guessed it.  I was the one who the ball was thrown at and became the first recipient of catching the ball.

 

            “Hi! My name is Robert or you can call me Robb. Despite what
            my name tag says, please don’t call me Bob or any other derivatives
            off of Robert. I retired from being the payroll administrator for my
            organization for over 2000 employees for the last dozen or so years.

             

            In my spare time I am recreational writer/amateur blogger and
            like to catch up on useless tv shows I missed out while I worked
            and went to school full-time since 1988. Something unique about me,
        
            I worked for the same non-profit organization since I was 14 years-old
            in vastly different capacities for my entire just over 40 year career
            with the YMCA of South Florida.“ 

 

The facilitator smiled and responded. 

 

            “Thank you for sharing Bob.”

 

Before I passed on the ball to the next random person, I gently yet quickly corrected him.  I thought I’d made it clear and reminded him and the remainder of the group. 

 

            “Robert, Robb but never Bob, please.”  

 

Laughter rippled through the ballroom.  I felt as if everyone was laughing at me for being difficult not necessarily for my quick quip of the incorrect name tag and my correcting my what I preferred to be called.  The facilitator then went on a mission to explain how we are introduced to others has a lot to do how others perceive us to be.  I guess in this case I came across stern, rude, obtrusive and any other negative adjectives to describe me rather than more friendlier sounding Bob or Bobby.  

 

After the laughter calmed down, I explained firmly why I choose to be called Robert or Robb.  

 

        “I call myself Robert, because that is the name I lived into and
        answered to.  It’s the name I signed on every legal document, every    
        greeting card and anything and everything else of prominence or not.

        It’s the name my parents chose for me and the one I chose to carry
        forward with intention.  It may sound formal, yes, but it’s also my name.

         

        Bob feels too casual and is someone else’s shorthand for who they 
        think I am or might be.  Bobby is reserved to very immediate     
        family and takes me back to how people perceive me as the little boy
        they knew fifty plus years ago.

        

        The use of Robert is intentional and deliberate.  It holds my life,
        my history and most importantly my voice.” 

 

When I finished my few moments of a monologue, the room erupted in a roar of applause.  My first thoughts, the participants were relieved I finally finished my comments and we could move on to the next person.  But it was only than I realized the person next to me, shared with me, how I gave him courage to stand up to their preferred name.  I imagine I freed up others to reclaim their own preferred names and their own history and story that comes along with their name.  

 

After all is said and done, the name Robert W Kovacs sealed both my academic history and my professional legacy.  My name coupled with my journey, my stories and my history will always be remembered by others as Robert’s or Robb’s but never Bob’s.