My Name is Daniel

I went to first grade in summer 1978. St. Margaret’s school would be my school for the next 8 years, in good times and bad.

My name is Daniel but I was not used to being called that. My kindergarten teacher Mrs Popovich called me Danny because that’s who I was. That was my name and the only name I went by at that time whether it was with family or school. My preschool teacher Mrs Lightoff called me Danny. I remember her fondly mostly because she let me play the cymbals during our class concert. I stood on my own at stage left and crashed them together with glee.

My first day at St. Margaret’s I knew this was going to be different. It was a small class and girls seemed to out number boys by nearly 3 to 1. Great numbers for a college classroom but icky for grade school. 

Mrs Reddinger was the teacher. She was tall, larger than life as I remember, and had long straight dark hair. She wore a long skirt and long sleeve blouse. She had a sister that also taught in the school who was a sister, indeed. The feature I recall most was her teeth. They were large and protruded especially the top teeth when she smiled - a smile that made me smile back guardedly.  Soon I’d learn what those teeth would look like in a disapproving face.

She called out all the student names that first day after she’d introduced herself. Apparently she’s been on maternity leave or something for the last year, and was coming back to teach first grade with gusto because we spent a lot of time taking attendance that first day. 

I am a Z last name. This has mostly been a curse especially when in any school environment. Last for everything. Alphabetical order was my adversary. I have fought alphabetical order my whole life and still fight it today, with glimmers of success with my children. One notable success was baseball tryouts in 2018 when I lobbied for reverse alphabetical order and both boys successfully made the higher tier league. I was convinced of an alphabetical bias. And the data though a small sample proves me right. 

So I was last to be called by Mrs Reddinger. And she called me, “Daniel Zappa.” I raised my hand and nodded. One of the curses of alphabetical order is that Zs nearly always sit in the very last seat in the last row of the classroom. Especially in 1978. Now a days there are small groups of students at small desks of a handful of kids. Seemingly seated at random or according to like ability in some cases. We have come a long way!

Mrs Reddinger asked about me and I told her. I mentioned the only extracurricular activity that I took part in at the time was competitive swimming. I was the only swimmer in that class and would find out that nonconformity of any sort was generally considered heresy and cause for ridicule among my peers.

Gathering boldness at the sound of my own voice in a strange environment I told her that my name is Danny and I’d like to be called Danny. 

“Your name is Daniel. And that is what you will be called in my classroom.” And the teeth were prominent. I nodded breathlessly and the boldness was gone. This was the first case in a series repeating over many times in that school in the coming years. Looking back if I’d been able to read the signs that day I’d have petitioned hard to my parents to send me somewhere else. But it would not happen. I was already coming to grips with my sentence: 8 years of hard labor at St. Margaret’s.

“My shield is God most high who saves the upright in heart. God is a righteous judge. A God who shows his wrath every day.”

That is Psalm 7, verses 10-11. A plaque with those verses emblazoned with “Daniel. God Is Judge” hung in my bedroom from my earliest memory. I don’t know where it came from or who gave it to me or when. It was either a baptism or first holy communion gift from a family member or friend. Either way it was in my room from the get go. It hangs in my office today alongside framed pictures and some select memorabilia from my career as a Marine officer.

I treasure that plaque as an early artifact from my upbringing. And a talisman of sorts. 

My name is Daniel. I was given that name at birth by my parents. When I call home my father greets me as Daniel. Or Danny. Today I go by Dan, as it is less formal and more familiar. My family and close friends call me Danny. I love that. I was Danny from a young age and there is a closeness, a dear and knowingness, a familiarity with it. Once you get to know me, I am Danny.

But my name is Daniel and it has great meaning to me. A biblical name that comes along paired with a powerful message that God is a righteous judge. But verse 10 is so uplifting and inspiring. My shield is God most high who saves the upright in heart!

I know and appreciate the significance of my name. The upright heart is one that is forever rejoicing and looking forward and upward to higher and higher places. An upright heart both basks in the beauty and passion of the present, and strives for high and worthy goals. It remains upright through trials and times of uncertainty  because it know that fear and temporary pain and suffering are merely bit players in the journey and serve to test but cannot conquer.

With great reluctance and deference to my young self I will yield that Mrs Reddinger had a point, though her delivery to a newly minted six year old landed awkwardly. My name is indeed Daniel. But if you want to be my friend then you can call me Danny.