Just Be There Blog

A name spelled any other way...

I am spending today playing catch up with organizing and documenting/backing up everything I've accomplished since the first of May--Phwew! I was a busy Bee!

(side note trivia: my off WdC name is Debora which is based on Deborah a Hebrew name which means bee...)

And with that little piece of trivia--I'm lead to tell the story behind my name. You see, the nurse where I was born mispelled my name. My mother, was thinking of Debra when she told the nurse, "Her, name is Debra without the 'h'." I think the nurse had some Spanish back ground because she translated my mother's wishes as, 'Debora.'

But wait, there is more...

Since my mother taught me how to spell my name for school, and since she filled out all my school entry papers from Kindergarten thru second grade (I was living, sort of, with my dad by third grade) I learned how to spell my name as Debra and spelled my name that way all the way through high school. No, I guess the copy of my birth certificate wasn't necessary back when I started school. 1959 was when I started kindergarten--no such thing as preschool or Sesame Street, but I did have Romper Room... And every school I enrolled into afterwards always took the previous school records as proof of who I was...

Anyway, I was a Senior in HS when I discovered the correct spelling of my first name according to my birth certificate. I had applied to take a series of tests (ASVAB) to see if I could join the Armed Forces out of HS. I originally had my sights on the Navy, but recruiter attitudes soon switched my preference toward the Air Force. (1973 armed forces had limited recruitment for women}. Well, I needed a legal copy of my birth certificate and a copy of my parents divorce decree to establish my age and who was my legal guardian. I found out several things about 'back when', and lucky for me, my mother was established as my legal guardian. I wouldn't need my father's permission to join the Air Force before the age of 21. (Yes, I had to be 21 before I could join without parental consent. 1973 remember?)

My mother wasn't too keen on the idea of her oldest daughter joining the military in time of war--Vietnam was going strong--but, she saw that I was determined and agreed that this was the best way for me to get a chance at college, so she signed her consent. That was a major turning point for us in our parent/child relationship. I learned my mother really did worry about me and she might even love me a little bit.

Well, back to the name--She had a problem on how my name was spelled on all the documents--Debora--She insisted that these documents couldn't be legal because my name wasn't spelled that way. So I showed her my birth certificate with her's and dad's signatures and said this was how my name was spelled. It took years for my mom to send a card or any other written item to me spelled other than, you guessed it, Debra. We have compromised, and she now agrees to write my nick name Deb on cards and things. I guess she has mellowed out as I have with the passing of time. But if I want to get a growl from her all I have to do is bring up the spelling of my name...