Can You Spell that for Me?

            “Her name is so long. She’ll never learn to spell it.”

            This is what my mom’s best friend told her before I was born.

            After weeks of consideration, my parents had finally revealed what their second child would be called. They had fallen in love with the name Rebecca, but disliked the various nicknames, like Becky and Becca. (My dad would impersonate a clucking chicken, saying “Beck, Beck, Becky!”) Instead they designated Rebecca as my middle name.

            “Caroline Rebecca Consoli,” they proudly told their friend, eliciting her cynical remark. Despite her noted lack of confidence, my parents had already set my name is gold.

            My name is exactly 22 letters and 9 syllables long. It includes four of the five English vowels, yet only six of the twenty-one consonants. It’s not one of the longest names out there, but it’s not one of the shortest either.

            When I was a toddler, my parents enthusiastically taught me to spell my name. They used my older brother’s letter blocks to spell my name out.

            “C-A-R-O-L-I-N-E, R-E-B-E-C-C-A—oh dear; we’ve run out of the letter ‘c’.”

            Maybe my name was a mouthful to spell. However, I was determined to master its spelling. When I was four, my mom bought me a diary, and I filled the pages with my name. Caroline, Caroline, Caroline…

            By kindergarten I could write my first and last name like a pro. However, I continued to struggle over “Rebecca.” I ground many pencils to stubs puzzling over the combination of letters. Rebbeca? Rebbecca? Maybe it was fortuitous that my parents designated my middle name as Rebecca, and not my first; I didn’t think I would ever learn to spell it. At age seven, I complained to my mom that I was still perplexed over the letters.

            “Use this trick,” she explained, “to remember that ‘Rebecca’ has one ‘b’ and two ‘c’s.’ One comes before two, and ‘b’ comes before ‘c’.”

            One “b,” two “c’s.” This method stuck with me. Every time I wrote my middle name, I repeated this phrase like a mantra. In no time, I had mastered my name.

            I’m not shy to admit that I still use the “one ‘b,’ two ‘c’s’” method whenever I spell my middle name. I don’t mind; my name is unique, and I love it no matter how long it takes me to spell it.