The Godfather: Peter Corris on ‘What’s in a name?’
When I was about 35, with three children of my own, I decided to stop calling my mother ‘Mum’. Henceforth I called her Jo, as all her contemporaries did. She was then in her mid-60s, which didn’t seem such a big gap. I felt like a contemporary. It took her a while to get used to it but eventually she did and she signed her letters to me ‘Jo’ for the rest of her long life.
I feel that the ‘Mum’ and ‘Dad’ tags create a distance between parents and children, especially adult children. They are obviously better than ‘Papa’ and ‘Mama’ but are still inhibiting in a certain way. At least occasional use of the real name would allow for some nuances in the relationship.
It’s not something to legislate about. I tried in vain to have my children call me Peter but they’ve resisted. I sign my emails with my name but am addressed as ‘Dad’. I only recall one exception. Out in the street one day, my adult daughter Miriam had occasion to hail me from a distance. Obviously there was more than one ‘Dad’ in the throng and it was with pleasure that I heard her instantly recognisable voice shout ‘Peter!’ I told her so but she reverted to Dad.
I similarly dislike ‘Aunty’ and ‘Uncle’ this and that. Note ‘Aunty’, a sort of diminutive. Why? I’ve scarcely seen any of my uncles and aunts since I became an adult and only one, an uncle, in comparatively recent times. I addressed him as Jim. He looked surprised but he was the mildest mannered of men and didn’t object.
Still more distasteful is the parental habit of having their children address their friends as Aunty or Uncle. This was very common when I was a child and there was a plethora of these people. I’m happy to say it hasn’t operated in my family and I like to hope that it has gone out of fashion.
(Looking back, though, when I think of those pseudo aunts and uncles I realise the impossibility of calling them by their first names. So conformist and hidebound where they, so shockable at any ripple on the social surface, that the idea is unthinkable.)
I offered a mild protest about being addressed as ‘Grandpa’ but lost out. I see some signs of hope among my grandchildren, though. One of them often refers to his mother by her first name; whether he will come to do so face-to-face I don’t know. I hope so. With more same-sex parents, and with blended families becoming the norm, it’s likely the conventional tags will come under pressure.
In one area at least I’ve had a complete victory. My private detective Cliff Hardy only encountered his daughter Megan when she was about 18. He has been Cliff to her ever since. Perhaps because of this it’s been easier for Hardy’s preference for his two grandsons to call him Cliff to take hold than it might have been. So far there are no ill effects.
Love this! I would no more have called my Mum (or Dad for that matter) by their first name than fly to the moon! That would be weird! A very different social landscape from when I was growing up when Mr, Mrs, Aunty, Uncle, etc were just what you used. Calling any adult by their first name was just out of order unless you were invited to do so!
I’m not sure how I’d react if if my kids ever called me anything other than Mumma – I think it would change our relationship completely. Not necessarily in a bad way, but I’m sure it would take me a lot longer to get used to it than it would for them 🙂
At six years old, camped on the banks of the Murray River with family, I discovered my father had a real first name. I delighted in using it until a girl in the next tent said “Haven’t you got a real father?”. Mortified I reverted to “Dad”. I encourage young and old to use my first name, that’s who I am after all. I have no love for fake aunts or uncles but my beloved elderly aunt will stay Aunt. It gives me a sense of belonging, a connection to her now that others have gone. To grandparents, I say wear that hard-earned moniker with pride!