In this post, I retell a story of when I was in kindergarten and told my teacher I was named Anthony.
On the first day of school in kindergarten.
My teacher, Mrs. Rousell, does the roll call. “Susie, Anthony.” And, of course, my first name is Anthony, but I’ve always gone by Greig. So in a split second, I say, “Yeah, my name is Anthony. Don’t call me Greig.” So the rest of that week, the teacher says, “One plus one, Anthony, what’s one plus one?” I’m like looking around the room. Is she talking to me? I don’t answer her.
And then later on in the day, “Where’s your mat? Anthony, go get your mat for nap time.” I’m like, “What?! Is she talking to me?” I mean, this goes on for the entire week, and finally, on Friday, my mother comes barging into my room.
“Anthony!”
I got in so much trouble, honey. Yes! My mama was like, “Why do you call that teacher and tell her that your name is Anthony? She says you have a hearing problem. Don’t you know that your ‘Greig’”? I mean, come on.
