Caasi. SK. YA. Bone. Sleevis. Rill. Miggy.
These are a few of my favorite nicknames I have dubbed my friends.
I’ve been giving people nicknames for as long as I can remember. I don’t know exactly when it started, and I’ve never really thought too hard about why. It’s just something I do, and one of the few things I would say that comes incredibly naturally to me. Nicknames are my thing.
When I was applying to colleges this year, I needed a peer rec for one of the schools I was applying to. I asked my good buddy Ethan Ravi (Rav) to write it for me. I hadn’t given him any direction, so I had no idea what he’d say. Turns out, he led with this:
“My first memory of Will is one of shock. ‘What up, Rav?’ he said as we locked eyes in the hallway. I smiled, nodded a greeting and continued to move my feet toward class, but my head kept repeating that one nickname, ‘Rav.’ Hadn’t I known this guy for a month, tops? How did we already get to the nickname step of friendship?”
That made me laugh, partly because it’s true, and partly because Ethan’s reaction is one I’ve seen before. I do tend to skip ahead and perhaps jump the gun. But to me, nicknames have never really been that deep. You don’t need to know someone’s life story to give them a nickname. You just need to know their name and maybe a little thing about them. It’s just a small way of making your relationship with that person feel a little unique. It lightens things up. It makes people feel good. And honestly, it’s just so much fun.
My teachers aren’t exempt from this either. Ms. Joyce became Ms. J almost immediately (and she’ll always be Ms. J). Ms. Apfelbaum earned A-Bomb. Dr. Randolph is Dillmatic, no notes. Mr. Stephenson is still a work in progress. He hasn’t warmed up to Mr. Steve yet, but maybe he’ll come around after reading this column.
When I was little, my dad cycled through a whole rotation. Pops, then Schnitz, then a bunch of others I’ve since forgotten. The names changed, but the feeling behind them never did. There’s something about calling someone by a name that only you use for them that makes the relationship feel so special. It’s a small thing, but it’s always mattered so much to me.
That’s what I love about it. Every nickname is a little signature of a friendship. And since no two friendships are the same, no two nicknames should be either.
My friend Elliott, E Pratt to me (definitely not Big Red, no matter what anyone says), asked me a really good question the other day: Do I even have a nickname? I thought about it for a second. Honestly, not really. Nothing’s ever stuck. I don’t lose sleep over it, though. I’m not really sure why nothing has ever stuck with me, but honestly, I have more than enough fun in the nickname department. I’ve got Caasi, SK, Bone, Rill and a hundred more.
