What's in a Name?

Thank you for joining me for my first blog post.  My name is Sheela Daley and I am an aspiring author.  However, that is my pen name.  I will now share with you why I write under a pen name and not my real one.

Your name is important.  When your name was chosen it was for a special reason.  My name, my given name, is one that is neutral gendered and was chosen because my father loved it.  The name is "Dale."

I never told my dad this but I do not like my name.

"Why don't you like your name, Dale?" you ask.

Because it is not a common name and, though gender neutral, more people consider it a male name than female.  Therein lies my dilemma.

I am female.  I always have been and always will be.

I actually told a very rude credit card representative that exact thing when he called to inform me my account had been suspended pending verification of some recent charges that did not make sense.  I had been out on a shopping spree over the weekend and red flags apparently went up when my card was used at stores focusing on the following:  women's clothing, toys, children's clothing, women's intimates, and cosmetics.  It was quite a haul.

On Monday the phone conversation went like this after he identified himself:

"Ma'am, there have been some unusual charges on Dale Ashley's credit card.  I need to verify the purchases before we can reinstate the card."

"Okay, go ahead," I replied, in my kind and definitively female voice.

"Well, we need to speak with the owner of the card, Ma'am."

"Yes... go ahead," I said, again quite pleasant.

"I'm sorry Ma'am.  We can't accept your responses for Dale.  We need to speak to him in person," he informed me.  He was growing impatient with me and it was quite obvious.

"You are speaking with Dale," I stated, beginning to match his tone.

"I am not allowed to share the information with his spouse or whoever you may be," he said in a condescending voice.

"Sir, I am Dale Ashley, I can assure you.  I get this all the time.  Go ahead and ask me for the information to verify my identity," I suggested.

"Ma'am, I am sure the two of you are close and he trusts you.  I, however, do not.  I insist you put Dale Ashley on the phone.  I will only speak with him from this point on."

That pushed me over the edge and I offered my female status with more authority than was necessary for the situation.  Within seconds the "gentleman" asked the necessary questions and, satisfied with my answers he offered his apologies and an explanation of their policy.

"Can you make a note in my file that I am a female?" I asked, hoping to avoid this scene in the future.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that.  We are not allowed to list gender in the file without your written permission."

"But you are allowed to assume it over the phone?" I asked, with sarcasm dripping off of the words.

"Well... with a name like Dale and there being no title in front of it like, Miss, Ms. or Mrs., I reasonably expected to speak with a man.  If you would like to send us a letter requesting we put a title on your account we'll be happy to issue you a new card with Ms. Dale Ashley as the name on the card.  We'll charge you $15.00 for the change but there won't be any additional embarrassing conversations like this one."

"I believe I will opt for a free guarantee of this being the last conversation like this one with your company.  Please list my account as closed, send my my final statement and I will terminate my account with you."

"Okay... I'll make the change to your title over the phone," he offered, scrambling to keep me as a customer.

"No thank you.  I like my way better."

"But this conversation is one that is being recorded and I need to resolve this," he whispered.  "What can I do to make you happy?"

Well... I did go ahead and cancel my card with that company.  I don't know what became of that employee and, I'm not proud to say this, but I really didn't care then if he kept his job or not.

All this because of my name.  That wasn't the only time I have experienced the surprise of someone hearing a woman's voice or having a woman show up when a man was expected.  Most of my college professors showed their surprise on the first day of class when they called role and heard me answer to my name.  It always caused them to stop and seek out a visual on the person who responded.

I have also been recruited for numerous activities and sent a surprising number of samples for male products.  I was not a fan of the men's deodorant, cologne or jock itch cream and powder.  I did like the razor and still purchase replacement blades for it.  I also enjoyed the free pair of boxer shorts I was able to get with the coupon I received for Mr. Dale Ashley.  They are comfortable pajamas.  But the best part was when I surprised the sales clerk when I asked her if they came in a more feminine color or print if I liked them enough to purchase more.

"Dale likes the prettier colors, does he?" she asked, jokingly.

"Yes, I do!" I replied as I handed her my coupon and credit card to pay for my other purchases:  two pairs of ladies underwear, two bras and a pack of pantyhose.

When she looked at the name on the card, which did not have a title on it as the credit card rep suggested  I should consider to avoid the issue, she did a doubletake.

"Could I see your i.d., please?" she asked politely.

I know they only ask for i.d. to see if I'm Dale's spouse.  I usually get asked if I go by the name Ashley or something, or some will actually tell me they like my unique name.  But not this lady.  I'm pretty sure she thought I was a cross-dresser or transgender person and, by the look on her face she did not approve.

I know my dad did not choose the name Dale so I would have to endure a lifetime of surprised reactions or necessary explanations for my gender.  He loved the name and loved me... I never once doubted that.

All this to say, your name is important.  I am proud of who I am but do not choose to write under my given name of Dale E. Ashley.  I use the name Sheela Daley, which is an anagram of my given name.  Now my problem is remaining consistent.

I attended a writer's conference a few weeks ago and registered for it as Dale E. Ashley.  I also submitted a book proposal for a formal review/critique from a respected agent/editor.  Of course, the proposal listed Sheela Daley as the author but my appointment for the critique was scheduled for Dale E. Ashley.

I arrived for the appointment and, once again, left someone shocked.  The esteemed reviewer looked at me and assumed I was trying to hone in on Dale's time with her.  Then she saw my name tag.

"Okay... before we review this proposal I have to admit I was quite confused why the gentleman Dale E. Ashley would choose to write in a feminine voice and use the name Sheela Daley.  I didn't know what to expect when you arrived."

We laughed together over the confusion - yes, I can laugh about it now.  Perhaps I should exercise my more mature view and call the credit card company with my apologies and set up a new account, but I won't.  Anyway, we had a pleasant meeting.  When we wrapped it up I realized I went over our appointment time by two minutes and you are supposed to respect these things diligently.

"I'm sorry if I made your next appointment start late," I offered as we shook hands.

"That's okay.  I don't see him here anyway," she said, looking around.  Then she giggled and put her hand up over her mouth.

Reacting to my puzzled look she quickly explained her gesture.  "Well... at least I think it's a him.  I really shouldn't assume anymore."

We laughed together as a gentleman walked up and introduced himself to her.

"Hello.  I'm..."

Now, this story would be absolutely priceless if it ended with him introducing himself as Kym or Kelly or another neutral name that is more commonly associated with the female gender.  That is the kind of ending that doesn't happen in reality.

In truth it ends like this:

"Hello.  I'm Roger, and I'm your next appointment."

I bet he never gets calls from his credit card company insisting he put his wife on the phone to verify Roger's recent purchase activity.