By Norma Adams-Wade
Hello. I’m “Nonie.” That’s my nickname. Family and close friends have called me that all my life. I don’t mind actually. I take it as a sign of love, comfort and history.
There’s a lot of history in a nickname.
People often are embarrassed, resent, and attempt to hide their nicknames. Some even go into fight mode if an acquaintance utters the label at the wrong time, in the wrong place, and among the wrong crowd.
“Hey Snotty!” Someone yells across the room. You are in a restaurant, meeting with a potential client, after you’ve grown up and are running a business. Old “Blockhead” from around the corner in your adolescent neighborhood recognizes you and bolts over to say hello.
You are mortified, angry, embarrassed, and certainly in no mood to be cordial. But you fake a pleasant greeting and quickly get rid of him with a “We’ll talk soon!”
The potential client is sitting there wondering how you earned the nickname “Snotty.” You avoid the obvious question and resume your business talk.
Yes, nicknames have history. Mine goes back to my Dad’s war years. He was in combat overseas when it was time for my birth. My Dad, Frank McLeod Adams, chose my name and sent his choice to my mom, Nettie Ruth Ivory Adams. The nickname came soon after, but I don’t have all the details. I take love from the name and nickname because they came from my Dad who was my hero.
My Mom was my role model, but not inclined to pick nicknames.
I was just thinking…who are you when you visit the old neighborhood? Does your nickname evoke pleasant memories or stir up your fight mode?
“Scarface,” “Nappy Head,” “Big Nose,” “Fat Daddy.” There’s “Bubba,” “Nookie,” and “Cry Baby.” Those are a few of the labels. Some harmless. Some not so much. The point is, it’s all history.
Other nicknames can be uplifting, like “Queen,” “Chief,” “Princess,” and “Champ.” Still others are cruel and well worth forgetting. But once the name is earned, it’s hard to unlearn. I had a friend whose nickname embarrassed her for the rest of her life. I won’t repeat it. She got the name as a toddler and grew up to be a highly-educated professional. At class reunions, she dared anyone to utter the nickname and classmates obliged in her presence.
Guys on the block may not be as kind when years later they see “Short Stuff,” “Stinky,” or “Squeaky” at the car wash.
I remember funeral tributes for legendary Dallas educator Dr. Yvonne Ewell. In one tribute, someone mentioned her childhood nickname. I honestly do not remember the nickname, but I remember the reaction I had when the person mentioned the name. It was not disrespectful, just strange to envision it for such a stoic presence.
I could not wrap my head around the fact that a distinguished scholar and leader such as Dr. Ewell could have had a childhood nickname. But, again, the name was uttered in love.
Today, I still hear “Nonie” quite often – from friends of my parents, church members, and old neighbors. I harken back to the comfort and safety I felt as a child, surrounded by people who loved me and had my best interest at heart. Not everyone had that. I’m one of the blessed ones. I know it. I appreciate it. I celebrate the memories.
Norma Adams-Wade, is a proud Dallas native, University of Texas at Austin journalism graduate and retired Dallas Morning News senior staff writer. She is a founder of the National Association of Black Journalists and was its first southwest regional director. She became The News’ first Black full-time reporter in 1974.
norma_adams_wade@yahoo.com