'Tag, you're it!' doesn't always apply to name tags
BY THOMAS C. WILLADSEN • MAY 13, 2009
"What do you want on your name tag?"
"My name."
I cannot count the number of times I have had this conversation since I became an ordained minister. One could write "The Reverend Thomas C. Willadsen," or "Pastor Tom Willadsen," or "Tom," or even "Tom W." if grade school friends are expected. I am really not picky about how I am addressed; I answer to a lot of different names. My first three years of high school, my soccer coach addressed me as "Tim, er Tom." Both Tim's and I knew whom he meant.
And I do not mind when people misspell Willadsen either. Usually the "e," which indicates the name's Danish origin, is changed to the more common "o." Big whoop. Sometimes an "r" is inserted before the "d." I tell people that "Willadsen" is Danish for "The cattle are dying." I am surprised at how many of them appear to believe this.
When I am introduced to people I always repeat their names. Because of my hearing loss "Nick" and "Mick" sound the same to me. It is a gift when I correct these misunderstandings right away, because when someone gets your name wrong, they get you wrong.
The only time I am irritated by how I am addressed is when my preference is ignored. The funeral directors in Baltimore County, Maryland were the worst offenders at this that I ever encountered. As a minister I regularly cross paths with funeral directors. "Hi, I'm Tom Willadsen, the new associate pastor at Towson Presbyterian Church," I would say while extending my right hand.
"Nice to meet you, Reverend."
"Call me Tom."
"OK, Reverend."
Now I can understand that funeral directors encounter all kinds of religious professionals and it is probably difficult to keep the "Fathers," "Pastors," "Deacons," and "Ministers" straight. A generic term like "Reverend" would have a certain appeal to me, if I were in their position. While generic, the term "reverend" is incorrect when used this way. Worse, I always felt as though the funeral directors were correcting me when they insisted on calling me "Reverend."
My barber calls me "Reverend," but at the barbershop that makes sense. He is not greeting me so much as announcing to the clientele that there is a clergyperson in the house. The jokes become PG rated and the topic of conversation switches to the pennant races and Packers' draft choices, once my profession is made public.
Sometimes people call me "Father," a title my tradition does not use to indicate ordination. Before I became a father in the biological sense, I found this title profoundly embarrassing.
Early in my career I had a conversation about titles with the Episcopal priest in my town. He said that being called "Father Rich," was a confusion. "A formal informality," he called it. He preferred to be called "Rich" or "Father Jenkins." I considered this for a few weeks, then I embraced being called "Pastor Tom," specifically because it was a formal informality. That combination captures the relationship that I try to maintain with members of my congregation.
Being addressed as just "Pastor" sounds incomplete to me, my job title is not my name. I do not walk into my office first thing in the morning and said, "Hello, Bookkeeper and Administrative Assistant."
The funeral directors in Oshkosh are more accommodating than those in Baltimore. It may be tempting for them to use "Pastor," the more common Midwestern generic term for clergy, when addressing me. They know, however, that I will call them "Digger," if they do. We are on a first name basis now, and that is fine with me.
This column first appeared in the Oshkosh Northwestern May 13, 2009.