Living With One Of The World's Most Unfortunate Last Name

It taught me to accept what is within my control and how to not take things personally.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

When I was about 9 or 10 years old, my mother pulled me aside for an important conversation. She explained that people would likely tease me because of my name, and I had to be prepared.

“If anyone makes fun of you, ignore them.” She told me. “You have to let it roll off you, learn not to care and to go along with it.”

I acknowledged it and understood what she said. I turned back to my mother and asked her, “Mom, what’s wrong with Drew?”

She wasn’t talking about Drew. She was talking about our last name, Fagot. Pronounced just as it looks, “fagit.” 

Some people claim that its pronunciation is “fuh-go” and while that’s not entirely wrong, names often change to fit the culture they’re in. 

Like many surnames, mine has origins. It comes from the French word for firewood gatherer. According to records, only 372 people in the U.S. share this last name, and about 3,000 worldwide. So yes, I guess you could say I’m one in a million.

Growing Up

Football was my first love when it came to sports. During tryouts, it was common practice for coaches to put each player’s last name on their helmet with a piece of tape. My neighbor, who was also my coach, was known for being hot-headed and unfiltered. He took me to practice during my first tryouts, but instead of writing my last name, he wrote “Drew” on my helmet. Later in life, I understood why. Given his reputation, parents would have thought he was cruel if he had written “Fagot” on a kid’s helmet. 

Middle school was tougher than high school. Fortunately, I never moved when I was a kid, and my older brother has gone through the same high school, so people in the community knew my family. 

People have asked me if people made fun of me, and of course, they did. But nothing stands out. All of it blurs together because there isn’t anything that I haven’t heard before. Within a few years as a teenager, I had heard everything that was possible. Anyone who thought they were being creative after that was kidding themselves. 

I had no control over how people would act or react towards me. My default reaction would be to laugh along with them and embrace it. When people try to take a dig at you or make fun of you, they’re usually looking to get a reaction out of you. If they get a reaction out of you, they win. I never gave a reaction. After a while, the teasing went away. 

It would be entertaining to hear the high school P.A. announcer at football games announce me. It was a 50% chance that they would say number 33 with the carry and the other 50% of the time, they would take a stab at it. I’m sure some of them thought they were about to lose their job after reading it aloud to thousands of people. 

Out of all the people who teased me over the years, only one person sticks out. There was a man when I was a freshman in college that went hard at it. It would be nonstop. It got to the point where it was annoying everyone else around him, and eventually, people started to cold-shoulder him and he stopped altogether. When I was in college, I thought I would be past the worst of it, but some people refuse to grow up. 

Embracing The Hand You're Dealt

My father had a gift for leveraging weaknesses into strengths. Living with our name was a teacher of that. He would utilize his name to ensure that everyone who interacted with him would remember him. 

When you’re dealt a hand like this one, you have to embrace it. If you do not, you’re going to be in for a tough and stressed-out life. 

There’s a bar that I’ve gone to in Chicago maybe three times in the past five years. There’s a bouncer there that every time I go, he remembers me. Some people in my life that I have had 10-minute interactions with remember me several years later. 

There have been former football players in the same graduation year from other schools who remember me playing against them from over ten years ago. 

It’s not an easy one to embrace, but the choice is to either feel sorry for yourself or embrace who you are.

The Meaning Of A Family Name

My father had the opportunity to change his last name when he was 16 years old. His father passed away when 6 years old, and his mother got remarried to a man named John Meyer. John Meyer, who I called my grandpa, asked my father when he was 16 if he wanted to adopt him. My father declined the adoption because he wanted to keep his family name alive. 

My father passed away on my 18th birthday. With that decision comes some weight in the legacy of the name. I respected him more than anyone in the world. 

Many people have asked if I would ever change my name. Some suggest it casually as if it’s as simple as swapping out a pair of jeans, which irritates me. Changing my name wouldn’t erase the experiences I’ve had or the people I’ve met who appreciated me for who I am. 

Changing it on a piece of paper wouldn’t alter how people in my life came to know me. My name has been a part of me, perhaps more so than for most people.

I’ve met maybe three or four people in my whole life who were genuinely offended by my name. To those few, what are you offended by? My birth certificate? It’s as if they think I’m playing an elaborate prank on the world. Hint: none of them were gay.

I wonder if my job applications have been discarded by hiring managers because of my last name. Do automated systems screen me out as a fraudulent applicant? When I graduated from college, I struggled to find my first job and even considered applying under Drew Morrison (Morrison is my middle name). Some online application systems wouldn’t allow me to enter my last name.

Many social media platforms will not allow me to put my name in the system unless I send them a picture of my driver’s license. I did on Facebook, and now Facebook will not allow me to change my name to Morrison there unless I provide legal documentation of it being my real surname. 

My last name is a part of my identity. It’s one that I’ve learned to embrace. It represents my history, my father’s legacy, and the strength that comes with facing challenges head-on.

To close out this piece, here’s a clip from the time my uncle was on the show Love Connection: