The attached two photos tell a story.

I have noted in the past the humbling consistency with which Starbucks butchers my name.

I consider it an occupational hazard of not being “Mark” or “John,” or any of a thousand names that someone would both know, and associate with my face.

Mischa is the German spelling of the Russian name, Misha[1] It’s the diminutive of Mikhail, the Russian equivalent of Michael. So, in Russia, if your name is Mikhail, people who know you well call you Mischa. When you are a child, your parents call you Mischa. It’s kinda like Little Michael, or Mikey, or Mike.

My father is Michael. I am little Michael.

Also in 1971, an American Figure Skater named John Misha Petkevich won the US Figure Skating Championships, held in Buffalo, NY.[2] He was also a student at Harvard, and performed there, at a live event they attended. His routine touched their heart. And “Misha” stuck with them.

The name is relatively uncommon here, and additionally confusing to people because it ends with an a, which people associate with feminine names. To top that off, when people hear it, they often expect a black woman, not me.. I have met Aishas, Felicias, Lakeishas, Latishas, Moeshas, Neishas, Salishas, and Tanishas. In college I received invitations in the mail to pledge sororities. It has it’s moments.

So back to Starbucks.

In October of 2021, as shown below, they tagged me as Meesa, which felt both generically disrespectful, as it wasn’t close, and artfully disrespectful, as it seemed distinctly Jar Jar Binks-ish. It felt like getting roasted by someone who wasn’t even trying.

Today, I walked in, and ordered my Venti-Melon-Burst-Iced-Energy drink. It has caffeine, and bubbles, which are two of my four food groups.

And when the barista, a young guy who seemed both Very At Ease and Very On Top Of Things asked for my name, and I said “Mischa,” he said, “that’s a nice name, Sir. How do you spell it?”

And in roughly 30 years of patronage, _no-one_ at Starbucks ever asked me that before .

It’s a big enough deal that I even give my name. For a long time, I just surrendered to the expectation of failure

But I changed my mind after watching the actress Uzo Aduba, of Orange is the New Black fame do an interview on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.

She said that growing up in New England (as I did), she met many people who mispronounced her Nigerian first name, Uzoamaka. So she goes home one day and asks her mother if she can start calling herself Zoe.

Her Mom asks why.

And she says because nobody could pronounce Uzoamaka.

And her mom says “If they can learn to say Tchaikovsky and Michelangelo and Dostoyevsky, they can learn to say Uzoamaka.”[3]

And that’s some good mom advice. It declares you are important. You are worth knowing. And the people who refuse to learn your name, either intentionally, or carelessly, are saying that you’re not.

So your job is to hold your head up, put your shoulders back, and act like you are the somebody God has made you to be.

We often walk into the world lamenting our uniqueness. We want to fit in. We feel awkward, and ostracized when we don’t. And if you have a unique name, people tend to casually butcher it, or dismissively protest having to learn it. They can also, especially as kids, be fantastically mean-spirited concerning it.

And that’s not fun.

There comes a point in our development however, at which we have the opportunity to embrace our uniqueness. And if someone is established, we don’t question their unique name. We didn’t call Madonna “Madonna Louise Veronica Ciccone”. She was just Madonna. Prince wasn’t “Prince Rogers Nelson.” He was Prince. And then he was The Artist Formerly Known as Prince. And as much as we may have had jokes, we worked with all of it. As the comedian Roy Wood points out, Hulk Hogan’s real name is Terry. And nobody blinks. Ice Cube is not a real name, but none of us are rushing to call him O’Shea.

So three years after being “Meesa” dissed, I’m sitting here in a Starbucks in Englewood, New Jersey, with a drink with my name on it, that I sat and photographed like a wannabe Instagram Influencer, because it’s one step shy of a collector’s item.

I pray today, that you own your name, whatever it is.

I pray that you embrace your uniqueness.

I pray that you teach the world how to address you, how to respect you, and how to love you, with tenacity, patience, insistence, and grace.

You are too important to be ignored.

[1] Gabowitsch, Mischa. “Sidebar.” Mischa Gabowitsch. Accessed July 26, 2024. https://gabowitsch.net/name/.

[2] “John Misha Petkevich Biography, Olympic Medals, Records and Age.” Olympics.com. Accessed July 26, 2024. https://olympics.com/en/athlet....

[3] “Uzo Aduba Shares Story about Why She Didn’t Change Her Name: ‘If They Can Learn to Say Tchaikovsky and Michelangelo and Dostoyevsky, They Can Learn to Say Uzoamaka.’ – Uzo Aduba Take Action with Us and Chime for...: By Global Citizenfacebook.” Facebook. Accessed July 26, 2024. https://www.facebook.com/watch....