What's in a Name?

I mentioned yesterday that I had been to Harrogate and spent some of my book vouchers. One of the books I bought was written by Gervase Phinn, and called "Out of the Woods but Not Over the Hill."

Gervase Phinn has been described as the James Herriot of Education. If you have been involved with children this is a must read for you.

In the first chapter he recalls the names of children when he was an inspector, and how they have changed from fairly ordinary names to far more exotic ones. He lists such names as Barbie, Kristopher, Buzz, Curston, Randy, Mykell, Charleen, Kaylee, Scarlet, Egypt, Hayleigh, Jordana, Aztec, Blase, Gooey (pronounced Guy!), and a Mr & Mrs Pipe's son called Dwayne (think about it - Dwayne Pipe!)

Then there were Demi, Dayle, Shalott (pronounced Charlotte), Precious, Roxanne, Tiggy, Trixie, Terri, Cheyenne, Billie-Jo, Tammy-Lou, Princess, Duncan Biscuit and Eileen Dover (Dunking Biscuit & I Leaned Over), twins called Sam & Ella (sounds like a kind of food poisoning!), Hadrian Wall, who had a father called Walter Wall, (Wall to Wall) Victoria Plumb, Sunny Day and Holly Wood.

He recalls a teacher telling him that she had taught Teresa Green, Annette Curtain and Poppy Field.

Then there was the Sprout family who christened their children after where they were conceived - Paris Sprout, Vienna Sprout and Seville Sprout - Luckily they didn't conceive a child in Brussels!


In an infant school in Bradford, he recalls, - I came across a large girl with a huge face, frizzy hair in bunches and great wide eyes.

"What's your name?" I asked the child.

"Tequila", she replied, "I'm named after a drink."

"Tequila Sunrise", I murmured.

"No," pouted the child. "Tequila Braithwaite!


I was told by the head of a Catholic school that it was a practice in the church to name the children after saints. He was at school with a boy who was called Innocent - a name adopted by a number of Popes.

"I suppose it was difficult having to live up to the name Innocent", I observed.

"It certainly was," he replied, "and something of a cross to bear. His second name was Bystander."



A vicar tells him the story of one child who was nearly christened Onarcardie.

I said to the parents "Name this Child," and the mother replied loudly "Onacardie."

I had just begun sprinkling the holy water over the baby's head and intoning "I christen this child Onacardie," only to be interrupted by the irate mother.

"No, No Vicar," she hissed. "It's on 'er Cardy. The names written on her cardigan, We want her to be called Siobahn!"