A 15-year-old boy, having been directed by adults to file an income tax return, did so; he received a letter of inquiry from the Internal Revenue Service that asked why the name on his return was different from the name on his Social Security card. The young man, who had been working for the University of Pittsburgh as a page in the library’s closed stacks, wrote a direct and honest reply. I do not remember the exact words I used, or if it was typed or handwritten, but the reply went something like this: “I went to the Social Security office and was asked my name. I gave the name I used, my middle and last name. The income tax form asked for ‘first name, middle name, last name,’ and I gave those.” I do not remember a response to that letter from the IRS, but it would be 48 years before I had to revisit that name game.
I lived in St. Louis, Missouri, for 19 years, and at some point I started to receive notifications from Social Security that listed the years of labor that qualified me for benefits. The notifications were addressed to “Jon Woods,” the name that the person behind the desk at the Social Security office in 1961 had noted for me. In 2008, the company for whom I worked moved its advertising headquarters to another city, and I joined 800 people on the unemployment rolls. There had been some agitation in Congress about the drag of Social Security on the nation’s debt, and with a mild fear that my benefits might be eliminated, I made the mistake of filing to collect early. As I researched this decision, I found that the name on the Social Security card must match the requester’s birth certificate. In 2010, I applied for, and received, a name change for my Social Security card, which now lists my full legal name.
I don’t know if Muhammad Ali had ever had that same problem, or even collected Social Security benefits. A recent article in another publication pointed out that he never legally changed his name from Cassius Marcellus Clay. A spokesperson for the Social Security Administration, in an e-mail to USA TODAY Sports, said that in the 1960s, “the Social Security Administration (SSA) did not require an applicant to provide documented proof of his or her name or changes to his or her legal name…” Roxanne Williamson continued, “An individual’s name was listed on his or her Social Security card based solely on his or her allegation. Many Social Security Numbers (SSNs), including SSN cards, were issued in the name provided by the applicant and could include an applicant’s nickname.” I nodded when I read that earlier in July, knowing that this had been true for me for many years.
In 2001, the world witnessed an event in the United States that changed our legal interactions. Once the dust and debris had been swept from the destruction of The World Trade Center, we formalized the ways in which we identified ourselves. In 2005, the Social Security Administration tightened its policies to eliminate the possibility that a 14-year-old kid might stroll up to a desk and give the name his friends used when they called him to the basketball court. What’s in a name? My nieces and nephews call me “Uncle Joni,” someone who has had a specific interaction with them that they have found — outside of the legal requirements of the day — to be special in some way.
I contend that, what is truly in our name, is our deeds.