March 2003

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Musing on being known.

One of the reasons I stayed in the Chapel Hill area after I finished college was that during my college years I had made contacts in the community, and was recognized as a person in my own right. I was known by my own name, not as an extension of someone else.

Not that being someone's extension is always a bad thing, you understand. There are still times, even this far away from my hometown, where I am most easily identified as the child of one or the other of my parents. At this age, that amuses me rather than makes me feel stifled. And, as I suspect is true for most of us, I'm often known, at least at first, by my associations.

It really is nice to be known to the people with whom one wants to do business. I had a chance to remember that today, when my bank manager and I were talking about making a change to my account. After the business moments we took a few for ourselves, just to get caught up. And it was good.

Same bank, but a different branch, is where I got my very first independent credit card (one that wasn't tied to my mother). I really didn't have a credit history, but the manager knew me, and made sure I was approved---I think just because he said so. He knew me from a group in which we both participated, and trusted me. And that was good.

It means a lot to me to be known and trusted. I try very hard to deserve the trust people place in me. And it's nice when that's recognized.