Way back, in the 7th grade, when I was 12, I started at a new middle school in a new neighborhood with zero friends. I had already completed 6th grade in a middle school setting so I wasn’t frightened by the change like many of the kids at this new school were. Their advantage however, lay in the fact that many of them had gone to Elementary school together and knew one another.
In my first class of the day the teacher was busy calling out names and pointing to seats so we’d know where we would be forced to plant ourselves day after day when we filed in for that particular class. Being that my last name starts with a Z I was used to being placed in the back so I made my way in that general direction and waited to be called last.
The other part of the routine that I was more than familiar with was the teacher inevitably butchering my name. Honestly it’s not that hard. See my name is spelled Janise and it’s pronounced jah-niece but many people tend to say jan-niss or even duh-niece. Yeah, that’s right, they would actually make a D sound when it’s clearly a J in the beginning of my name. Once I even had a substitute say (with much conviction) jan-is-ee.