I just realized how rude I've been. I never
introduced myself to you. My name is Anil (uh-neel say it with me) Antony (not Anthony) and I'm an '02. My zodiac sign is Gemini and I enjoy long walks, sunsets, Anna Kournikova (and using parentheses way too often). Now that we've got that out of the way, let's get on to the meat and potatoes. Today I am writing about diversity. WAIT, wait, wait, before you fling down this article in disgust, give me a chance. I'd like to address the subject of name diversity. I am definitely what you would consider an underrepresented minority, and this is my cry for help. Michaels, Sarahs, Saras and Johns are a dime a dozen. Sorry guys, you're just not that unique. Yeah yeah, I know your moms have all told you many times that you're all very special, but let's be honest, you're not really.
I, of course, am the only Anil in the undergraduate population. This is a distinction I used to enjoy, but I have since learned the truth about names. I'm beginning to feel lonely. There's a certain reassurance in being part of a group. My contention is that the College has isolated my "special" friends and me. In the endless sea of Bobs, Amys, Nicoles and Brads, we stick out like a sore thumb. Dartmouth College preaches diversity, and yet fellow students and I are continually downtrodden and subjected to ridicule. Yeah, I know I'm getting a bit dramatic, but I'm peeved.
Allow me to illustrate my point using the following anecdote. This summer I found myself waiting for a table at the Silver Diner in my hometown. In a moment of faux lucidity, I had submitted my real first name to the list instead of making up a moniker, as I usually do. I find that John works the best because everyone knows someone named John. Finally, Bob the waiter came to the waiting room.
My name was next, I could already tell by the way that he was ogling the page. "A-a-a " he stammered. Meanwhile, I sat, amused, wondering how long I should let this fun continue before I spared him. I could see beads of sweat popping out on his forehead as he wrestled with my name. I was playing something of a dangerous game, because I knew that this could backfire. Throughout school I had been the butt, pun intended, of countless jokes because my name, Anil, bears a marked resemblance to a feature of posterior anatomy.
Inevitably, some confused teacher would blurt out "Anal," much to my chagrin and the amusement of my peers. But the mispronunciation didn't stop there. I've been called O'Neal, A-nil, Aaaaanil and Onil. One obviously hallucinogenic kid in the first grade managed to find a "Mc" somewhere, and called me McNeil until I reminded him that neither of those letters came close to fitting in my name.
Back to Bob: While clasping his hands anxiously, in something of a sneeze, he swallowed the rest of my name and squawked "Mr. Anthony?" Sweating profusely, he wiped his brow. Then he paused, looked around the room, and drew a deep breath as a smile crept across his face, obviously pleased with this mammoth accomplishment. I could see that he was expecting applause of some kind, or at least brief congratulations. So, not wishing to downplay his triumph, I went to him, shook his hand heartily and introduced myself.
"Hi, I'm Anal Anthony. I think you just called my name?"
"Oh really, is that how it's pronounced? I thought it was more like Anil Antony."
"Well, it is, but only if you want to pronounce it correctly."
Don't get me wrong, there are definite advantages to having a unique name: the vanity plates with my name on it will always be available, my friends don't need to call me by my last name, and when I sign autographs in the future (it'll happen, I assure you) I can just write my first name.
However, I've been dealing with this sort of thing my entire life and it irks me. I would expect Dartmouth College, an institution that values diversity, to end this cycle of oppression, but to no avail. Still, hundreds of my beleaguered comrades are forced to suffer the indignance of terrible mispronunciation. I enjoy being "special" but enough is enough. Get more Anils here!
I propose that the ever-popular Student Life Initiative be amended to correct such name imbalances. That's much more important to this student's life that the other "important" reform issues like fraternities and social life. Of course, it'll never happen. Meanwhile, the Mikes, Katies, Elizabeths, Jeffs and Toms will continue to butcher my name, unabated.
There, I've said my piece, and hopefully I've inspired a movement. Anils of the World Unite! At least be able to say Anil correctly, please.