The name “Deirdre” has never been terribly popular in the US – it’s much more common in Ireland (logically – Deirdre is a character out of Irish myth) and somewhat common in England. But there are always a few of us, and we tend to notice each other.

Somewhere around my own generation, Deidra seems to have a popular variant among American blacks. And it’s very common for people (of any race) to mis-understand or mis-pronounce my name that way. 

And therein hangs a tale…

In the mid-80s I worked as a secretary at a lobbying firm in Washington, DC. This was the era of central switchboards, and one day our receptionist passed a phone call to me. It was a young man, whom I assumed from his voice to be black, asking for “Deidra.” He gave his name and said he was calling to follow up after meeting me at a club the night before. I thought I was being pranked, though I couldn’t think who would pull this particular prank on me. “I hardly ever go to clubs, and I wasn’t at a club last night,” I said, truthfully.

“Yes, we met, and you gave me this number to call.” He seemed really smitten, and kept insisting that I had met him. No doubt he thought I was pranking him (rather cruelly) in return. I couldn’t think of any way to convince him that I was not the girl he’d met in the club. Finally, I asked: “Can you describe this girl you met?” “Yes! She’s a real pretty black girl!” “But I’m white!” I wailed.

Poor guy. At that he was finally convinced. I passed him back to the receptionist, who eventually worked out that we had had a temp worker in for a few days whose name was Deidra, and she had given him the office number. By that day she was no longer working in our office, and I’ll never know whether she gave him that number to get rid of him, or actually hoped to hear from him.