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My Name is Jeffrey, But Black People Call Me Jeff
Media portrayal of Black people belies their inherent warmth
During my junior year at Ohio State, I decided I was no longer going to go by Jeff.
It might sound a bit sophomoric, but to me, Jeff sounded too simple. Too plain.
I decided to switch to Jeffrey.
Not Geoffrey. That version seemed like a rich man’s name, and my family was far from that.
But Jeffrey still sounded like someone who would be a professional someday. Someone to be taken seriously. My family didn’t have any money, and the last thing I wanted to do was struggle like they did when I grew up.
I was fine if other people went by Jeff, but the name didn’t seem to match my eclectic style.
From now on, I was going to be Jeffrey.
I promptly called my mother to break the news.
“Mom, I’d like you to call me Jeffrey instead of Jeff starting today.”
Despite having one of the most supportive moms in the world, she refused to play along.
“I’ve been calling you Jeff since before you could speak. I’m not switching.”
