posted by admin in Uncategorized
With a first name like “Kwame” you can be sure that school and growing up was a bit different for me than someone by the name of “Graham” or “David”. Yes, sometimes it was excruciatingly DIFFERENT actually. Why? Hmm, well…between the ages of five and seven I was routinely asked “what’s a Kwame?” and after that was subjected to ridiculous rhymes, most of which made very little sense (go on, I dare you to try and make one up now in the English language). Yes, it was only when I was a bit older that the name I had been “blessed” with suddenly became a good thing and something I appreciated. And I shall tell you why: it was because I stood out from the pack, and was thus elevated to a slightly higher social standing than I previously had been in line to end up.
Now, standing out is not always good, but when you look very similar to everyone else and aren’t ever going to become a model and have that as leverage, it’s a great thing, believe me. Standing out with an interesting name gives you an edge that David Smith would never be able to pull off, for example. (And yes, David: if you are reading this then THAT WAS A DIRECT JIBE AT YOU! So there, how does it feel now, hu?)
So now I quite like my name. I really do: thanks mum and dad. Now I wouldn’t be without it. Now I just feel sorry for everyone else who doesn’t have a slightly fascinating name (such as my friend Boring Brian Hunter who does manual handling train the trainer courses, whatever they actually are, and everyone always forgets his name, so there you have it…)
