When I took my daughter Katherine, whom my husband and I named after my grandmother and my great grandmother, two very strong women in our family tree whom I wanted to celebrate in my girl’s name, to meet her third-grade teacher, the teacher asked her, “What would you like to be called?”
She responded, “Katie.”
Taken aback, I immediately retorted, “No! No, no, no! … You don’t want to be called Katie! … Katherine is so much more sophisticated.” I went on and on why she should not be called Katie. (I do like the name Katie for every Katie who is reading this, but I was attached to Katherine for heritage reasons.)
What I didn’t realize is that the teacher’s name was Katie.