A Girl Named Randi
My parents named me Randi. It’s certainly no “A Boy Named Sue” sob story, but it also doesn’t exceed expectations.
For one, it’s usually easy to pronounce; I’ve only heard one mispronunciation that I really remember. The substitute asked for a “Rand-die” in a class where no “Rand-die” could be found.
Similar to a severe shortage of “Rand-die”, there is also a lack of Randi in general. It’s surprisingly pleasant to know that I’ve never had to respond to “Randi H” in any settings. I think one of my elementary school classes produced four Haleys — all with spelling variations — and three Jakes. I was content with a single first name and no subsequent initial.
Unfortunately, the cons seem to stack up and become obnoxious after a while. “Randi” is traditionally a masculine name. Most people assume I’m a guy. My parents chose an “i” over “y” to obviously radiate femininity, but people disregard this small discrepancy. When I was 11, my family went on a cruise. The waiters mistook my brother for Randi and me for Cameron. Another time, I introduced myself to a girl, and she excitedly replied, “Wow, that’s my dad’s name!” She’s now one of my closest friends, and her dad is a nice guy, but it’s still a funny story.
I don’t particularly enjoy the portrayal of Randi’s — masculine or feminine — in movies and TV shows. I’ve only really seen Randi as the creep who can’t take a hint, and I like to think I can take a hint. I recently saw a better portrayal of Randi — a girl actually! — on Netflix’s new reality show The Circle. My name is actually her nickname for Miranda. Devastating to say, her competition on the show kicked her off, and she lost her chance at $100,000.
Shakespeare — or as I prefer, Leonardo DiCaprio in the 1996 adaption of Romeo & Juliet that included gang members and drug scenes — asked, “What’s in a name?” My experiences answer confusion.
There is a silver lining to my name crisis identity. At one point, I completed a project about my name and its meaning. I asked my mom why she chose “Randi”, and she replied that she didn’t like the name “Megan”. With this weird answer, I asked my dad the same question. He said he wanted to name me Megan, so he could say, “You’re Megan (read: making) me crazy!”
Despite the problems arising from my name, I’m glad it’s not an elaborate Dad joke.
