I was supposed to be an “Oliver”. That was going to be my name; that was until they saw me. “He doesn’t look like an Oliver”, said my mum. Dad and the grandparents agreed, “It’s just not him”. Finally the question was posed, “What about Alexander?” Not only do I believe Oliver sounds about 40% sexier, but my parents hyphenated my surname, which gave it a hefty eight syllables. My name has taught me one thing – if your parents pass on both their names for whatever reason, they forfeit their right to object if the child decides to dump either one, or both of them. I’m tempted to take Catherine Deveny’s argument one step further. I’ll happily adopt my wife’s surname, and her first name while I’m at it. However, in those moments when I’m proud of my family, it’s nice to have both, for now. It was only during high school that I started becoming more comfortable with my name. High school seems to be widely sighted as the ‘grow up’ stage. I’m not sure if high school itself is the catalyst, I think your family shapes the majority of your growth; but it’s during high school that you’re at an age where you can begin to comprehend your family with a broadened perspective. When I was at that age, my grandfather died and my parents lost their business, along with the house. I understood the magnitude of the first. We’re a very small, very close family; any loss is magnified. The benefit of losing someone fairly early is you become aware and accepting of mortality; dealing with death is a great survival skill. As for my parents’ financial problems, my sisters and I remained unaware of just how bad things were. It’s only now that I’ve come to understand the potential strength of parenthood. Parents can hide from their children their worries; immense worries that would consume any mind with lesser priorities. Since leaving high school I’ve developed two life philosophies, which aren’t particularly original but they work for me. The first rule, and I’ll give you the cynic’s version – is “no one is special”. In my first year of university I was drastically shaken by the change in environment and felt increasingly isolated. When I realised that countless numbers of locals students must have felt this at some stage, let alone overseas students, it was the circuit breaker that reinvigorated my ambition and sense of belonging. You always get some perspective after a problem passes; this rule aims to borrow a little while it’s happening. The second rule is that, “if there’s two sides to an argument, odd are 50% of the arguments I make are wrong”. This clearly ignores the reality that many arguments aren’t winnable from either side, but it helps remind me that it’s critical to truly ponder the merits of the others side’s arguments before getting too carried away with my own assumptions and prejudices. It prompts me to think first.