I have a weird name. There isn't really any way around it. I was supposed to be a "Dominic," but I ruined that plan when I came out as a girl. So, my parents named me after my late grandmother.

When I was younger, I used to dread substitute teachers and loved kids who also had names that people struggled with. I always went over if it was important enough to me to correct them when they pronounced it wrong. I mean, it wasn't their fault.

My name isn't like Joe or Bob or Kim or Judy, but it isn't even that difficult. It has extra repeating letters in weird places, but others definitely have it harder. Even so, I mostly decided to let teachers call me whatever simply because it was easier and the less time they spent trying to figure out my name, the fewer people would be looking at me.

As a (sort of) adult, I have noticed myself starting to correct people. I usually just let them butcher it and continue on with my day because it really did not mean much. My name was just something I had. I never really had that close of a tie to it.

But I think I realized how important it is to be called correctly when I was working with my preschool students during these past two school years. Many have difficult names and before my team enters a classroom, we learn how to correctly pronounce each individual's first and last name.

The students are so much more enthusiastic and engaged when called by their name. Knowing all names and not just the students who are misbehaving is so important for the classroom environment. In a class with fifteen four-year-old children looking for the teacher's attention, knowing their names is the best way to make each child feel like they are getting individualized care.

Owning your name, even if it takes others several tries to get correctly, is one of the most powerful things you can do. As a child, it is one of the very few things we have complete ownership over in a classroom.