The date was March 30th, 1987. In the wee hours of the morning, a boy was about to come into the world. Getting to the hospital? Check. Doctor ready to go? Check. Everything was in order--except of course a name. When the boy was finally delivered around 3 a.m., a nameless life force sat there--waiting to be labeled.
"Is it going to be Andrew Richard or Jordan Richard?" My parents debated. Somehow the 9 months they had while I was still chilling in the womb hadn't been enough time to answer this one question. I guess now I understand it, knowing my parents like I do. After all it almost took them an eternity to decide on the tiles for our kitchen remodel. Understandably, naming their third child was a more serious commitment. Perhaps my mom was holding out hope that, despite all the initial reports, I would actually come out a girl, like she had been hoping for. But nope. Finally, unable to decide between the two, my parents turned to an unlikely hero for advice--Dr. David Bennett. Out of the blue, Dr. Bennett suggested "how about Andrew Jordan?" Apparently my parents fell in love with it on the spot, because they immediately dropped the other names. My poor dad (whose name is Richard) had somehow been eliminated from the equation, but yet everyone was satisfied.
I believe somehow that the initial indecision on what to name me still affects me today. For truthfully I don't even know what to call myself. For as long as I can remember, I've basically gone by 2 names. Some people call me Andrew; some people call me A.J. You'd think at some point that I'd have simply abolished one and embraced the other, but the truth is I haven't. I'm just as comfortable being called one as I am being called the other. What you call me probably depends more on how you met me or how long you've known me more than my own preference, since I don't really have one.
When I was just a younging as part of the Montemar Way neighborhood gang, I was unmistakably A.J. During middle school I flip-flopped between my 2 names--still OK with being called A.J. but considering a switch to Andrew to avoid being associated with that one Backstreet Boys dude (perhaps this was to hide the fact that I actually liked the Backstreet Boys back then?) In high school I was primarily A.J., and my best friends from this time in my life still elect to call me by that name. My family, on the other hand, usually calls me Andrew. Or they complicate the matter further by calling names like Drew, Ja-Je, Hurrrayyyy-J, Dage (still can't explain this one), Droop-a-loop, and the like.
If you knew me well enough at Cal Poly, you probably knew me as A.J. But of course if you knew me as a work associate, whether it be at Wolf, the SJSRC, IntelliDx, or Spencer's (the grocery store, not the immature joke shop at the mall), you'd call me Andrew. And if you really really knew me in college, you may have even called me the Ghiossi Grill, which is my personal favorite nickname.
And wouldn't you know, this problem has become even more complicated since I shipped out to Taiwan. It is no longer just A.J. and Andrew dueling it out for supremacy of the self. This self-inflicted Dissociative Identity Disorder has worsened. A third persona has entered into the mix--one that goes by two names: Teacher. Andrew. When I walk through the doors at Hess to begin my workday, the switch flips. A.J./Andrew puts away his Ipod that was just seconds ago blazing Living Legends, puts on his "intellectual" pair of bifocals, and suddenly becomes Teacher Andrew.
Teacher Andrew is an interesting fellow. He is similar to A.J. and Andrew, but differs in the fact that he spends the majority of his time with people about half his age. And in no small part, this affects how Teacher Andrew behaves. Because of his seniority over his students, T.A. is pretty confident and sure of himself. Most classes he will construct examples to demonstrate grammar patterns that have something to do with how smart or handsome he is. And the kids love this, only adding to his confidence. T.A. also loves games. He gets supreme enjoyment out of watching his students throw the sticky ball or roll the dice. When students mispronounce a word or speak using incorrect grammar, T.A. doesn't yell or scream at them. Instead he just grimaces in pain like their words have just thrust a dagger into his abdomen. Understanding this cue to mean they screwed up, the students quickly correct themselves, making T.A. transform that grimace into a beaming smile. In his Step Ahead classes with the older students, when topics for the day range from video games to sports to music to movies to literature, T.A. will often share personal information with his students about his favorites in each of those categories. He's been known to whistle the Mario theme song, hate on the Red Sox, sing a little Lady Gaga, talk with a Harry Potter accent, or act out some Lord of the Rings.
And at a time when A.J. and Andrew aren't completely sure of themselves; when they've yet to figure out what the hell exactly it is they want to do with the rest of their lives, this Teacher Andrew character is a good guy to have around. He's confident and knows what he's doing. Or at least it appears that way.
