I do not have a dog named Toto. I have never traveled to Oz. I am not friends with Glinda, the Cowardly Lion, the Scarecrow or the Tin Man.
Those of us with unusual names have heard all the jokes before. Dick? Heard it. The girl whose initials are E.T.? Yup, she’s heard it. And me? In the 21 years of my life, yes, I have heard them all. You are not being original when you ask me where the yellow brick road is.
That isn’t to say I hate my name. Just the opposite — I love it. That wasn’t always the case, though. It took me a long time to come to terms with my old-lady name. When I was in kindergarten, I wore a name tag that read “EMILY” for a whole week. It didn’t stick. Well, the name tag did (it was adhesive), but the name didn’t. During the past few years, I’ve come to see the beauty in my name. In fact, the two main reasons why I love my name are the same reasons my parents had when they chose it in the first place.
First of all, I was named after my maternal grandmother. She is an incredible woman and one of my favorite people. My family history is very important to me. It should be; I grew up in the same house my paternal grandfather did. It has been in my family for almost 200 years. When you grow up with your family history all around you, it gives you a sense of pride in your genealogy. I love that I share a name with my grandmother. She is such a cool lady, and my name reminds me of her.
The second reason why I love my name, and why my parents gave it to me, is because I have never — not once in my life — been called “Dorothy P.” because there were other Dorothys. I’ve never experienced confusion over which Dorothy someone was referring to. Actually, I’ve met only one other Dorothy my age, and she went by Dot, anyway. My parents definitely had that in mind when they chose my name and those of my two brothers. It was very practical of them, really.
I’ve been trying to accept that, as awesome as my name is, it comes with some strings. I’ve tried to come to terms with the fact that when your name is inherently connected with one of the most beloved movies in popular culture, people are going to wise crack about it. Seriously, I’m trying to develop a sense of humor about it. My Halloween costume this year is going to be Dorothy (Gale, of course, from The Wizard of Oz. I don’t want to be that girl who comes to a party as “herself”). I’m also trying to bite my tongue and not say anything sarcastic when someone makes a joke about my name. This has been especially hard, because I respond to almost everything with an acerbic barb.
I’m trying, I really am, to be good-natured about it. I do, however, have one request: Please don’t think you’re the funniest comedian in the world when you crack a joke about the flying monkeys. Those things are scary!
