Let Me Call
You Sweetheart
An elderly
gentleman liked to brag about all the girlfriends he had in his younger
days.
I had so many girls chasing me that I had
to sing, “Let me call you sweetheart, I forgot your name…”
An old joke
containing a wink at wisdom: you’d better know her name if you want to keep
her.
Teachers use the sweetheart title a lot too. It’s tough
to remember the name of every girl or boy who wants your attention. Sure,
teachers remember the names of the students in our classes or grade level and
the ones who passed through our little classroom community, but since every
child in school knows your name, they expect you to know theirs too.
Names are
important. Who can forget the weaver’s daughter who, having accepted the help
of that strange little man who spun straw into gold, desperately tried to guess
his name to keep him from taking her first born child? Luckily, she happened
upon the name Rumplestiltskin and all was well.
People like to
hear their names. Using someone’s name establishes a connection. One summer, I
helped direct a week of Junior High camp. Take a minute to think about that –
raging hormones at loose in the wild woods.
Thirty five young
men and women who thought they had all the answers to life’s questions but had
thousands of questions about life. The first thing we did was learn each camper’s
name. We sat down and memorized the groups, then, as the campers checked in, we
put a name with a face and practiced using it. Group leaders encouraged campers
to learn each other’s names. We did; they did; and we had a great week taking
home not just a list of addresses, but a list of friends.
When visiting
nursing homes, I am always encouraged when I hear the staff addressing the
residents by name. These folks feel respected and valuable when addressed as
Mr. Smith or Mrs. Maxwell rather than honey or dear. Someone took the time to
learn their name, what a great feeling.
I also like
hearing politicians calling on reporters by name. A press conference becomes
more of a conversation than an inquisition when journalists are Liz or Harry
rather than just that fellow from The Times or that gal from CNN. What business convention would be complete
without the Hello, My name is _____
tags?
Several summers
ago, I worked teaching English to a group of Taiwanese students. Each had
chosen an American name to use while here.
They knew that friends call each other by name and that their given
names might be too hard for us to pronounce. Even though we had to guide one of
the boys away from ‘Lillian’ to ‘Larry,’ those names remain dear to our hearts.
For those of us
with hundreds of names to remember, ‘sweetheart’ comes in handy though. Each
dear little face that passes us in the hall deserves a greeting, a compliment,
a smile.
Sometimes,
teachers answer a, Good Morning, Mrs. X, with Good
Morning, sweetheart! We try to add, Please tell me your name again; I have so many to remember and I don’t
want to forget you.
Because teachers
-- and all those who care about others -- also remember that after, Let me call you sweetheart comes, I’m in love with you.
