I am a female-to-male trans boy working at a high-profile pharmacy shop. My boss has allowed me to wear my “male” name on my nametag, but all the computers show my legal, “female” name.

I am helping a customer find things and she is very happy so far. Finally, I bring her up to the front and ring her things up.

Customer: “You’ve been so helpful to me!”

Me: “I’m only doing my job, ma’am.”

Customer: “What’s your name, young man?”

Here I hesitate, and then I tell her my male name. But, as I think it over, now I’m worried that if she decides to call the company and give me a good review, they won’t know who she is talking about.

Customer: “Thank you so much!”

Me: “Actually, ma’am… I’m sorry, but I gave you the wrong name.”

Customer: *Confused* “What do you mean?”

Rather than say anything, I turned the register around, which had my “real” name at the top of the screen. The smile slid off her face, her eyes grew wide, and she thanked me quietly and left.

The next week, my boss congratulated me on getting such a good customer review. Seems she really didn’t have a problem with being rung up by a trans boy after all.

The online game I play had a meetup recently. It cost $20, all of which was donated to charity and you got swag, one of which was a T-shirt with the game logo on the front and your game login across the back.

In the game forum, one of the players asks:

Player: “Does it have to be the login?”

Me: “Why?”

Player: “Read my login.”

It was posted by “RancidDogFart.”

I am a teaching assistant in an elementary school. My name is extremely uncommon and also happens to be spelled almost exactly like a popular cookie brand. I’m used to people joking about it and don’t really mind.

A few days before classes start, all the faculty meet at the school for orientation, and afterward, I spend a few hours helping my partner teacher set up the classroom.

Teacher: “So, how do you pronounce your name?”

Me: “[My Name].”

Teacher: “Okay, gotcha. Good thing you have a name tag!”

Me: “Yeah, I feel like many of the younger kids will have trouble pronouncing it, but it’s fine.”

On the first day of school…

Teacher: “Welcome, class! My name is Mrs. [Teacher], and this is Ms. [Cookie Brand].”

Me: “Actually, it’s Ms. [My Name].”

Teacher: “Whoops! Sorry about that.”

Day two…

Teacher: “Ms. [Cookie Brand], can you please collect these papers?”

Me: “Sure. But it’s Ms. [My Name].”

Teacher: “Right! Sorry, sorry. I’ll remember that.”

Day three…

Teacher: “It’s time to line up for recess! Please form a neat line behind Ms. [Cookie Brand].”

Students: “It’s Ms. [My Name]!”

Teacher: “Oh, no. I got it wrong again, didn’t I?”

I thought it was pretty hilarious, but the teacher honestly felt bad that she kept messing up my name. The next week, she brought me a bag of those cookies, but she had covered the brand name with masking tape and written the correct spelling of my name in all caps. Most people who mess up my name just keep saying it incorrectly, but she made a huge effort to use the correct pronunciation after that.

Outdoor school has been a long-established “rite of passage” for third-graders here — a time to spend three days away from actual school and learn about the wilderness. Like many of the kids who are attending outdoor school, I am Native, which isn’t uncommon for the area we come from, nor the area we’re in.

We are learning about all the different types of trees, but I’m bored of this lesson and start whispering to my friends. 

It is important to know that everyone in my family has rather… unusual names. It is the late nineties when this happens:

Counselor: “[My Name], are you paying attention?”

Me: “I am! But I know all of this already!”

Counselor: “Oh? Then kindly point out the different types of trees you see around us. If you can get them all correct, you don’t have to go on the nature walk later.”

I stand up, walking over to a big spruce tree.

Me: “This is my Uncle Spruce.”

I walk over to the next tree.

Me: “This is my Uncle Pine, that’s my Auntie Maple…”

I continue on like this for every tree, and the councilor — who is also Native — stops me after a while.

Counselor: “All right, [My Name], you know your trees! But they aren’t your uncles or your aunties; they’re our friends.”

Me: “No, they’re my uncles and aunties! I promise!”

The counselor made a note on his clipboard, and we continued on. Later that night, I was summoned to the counselor’s cabin where they were on the phone with my parents. They put the speaker on so I could hear.

The counselor had told them that I had cheated at the tree lesson, which was a punishable offence. When asked how he knew I had cheated, the counselor told them that no one had ever gotten all the trees correct and told them about me calling them “uncle” and “auntie”. 

My father burst out laughing before my mother could explain; her parents had named all their children after trees, and they had taught all the kids the different types of trees! I didn’t cheat. I knew them because my aunts and uncles had taught me about their namesakes when I was little! 

The counselor blushed and apologized.

(My husband and I go to Disneyworld to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary and paying off our house. This is about a month after “Weird” Al Yankovic released a new album with a song titled “Skipper Dan.” For those not familiar with the song, it’s about a failed actor working the Jungle Cruise Ride at Disneyland.

We get in line at said attraction. As we are waiting for the next free boat to come up, I glance at the nametag of the cast member helping load the boat. Lo and behold, the nametag says “Dan.”)

Me: “Is your name really Dan?”

(He nods sadly.)

Me: “Have people been asking about the Weird Al song?” 

(He nods sadly again.)

Me: “You poor b******.” 

(He smiles with another sad nod. We get on the next boat and our enthusiastic ride operator goes through his opening spiel…)

Operator: “…and on the deck is our own Skipper Dan of Weird Al fame. Hi, Skipper Dan!” 

(Skipper Dan slumped his shoulders and waved. I don’t know if that was an act or not, but know that all us working stiffs are with you, Skipper Dan. Salute.)

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