My Name is My Name

Everyone loves The Wire. It’s one of the best TV shows that has ever come out. The storyline, the characters, and the representation of a particular lifestyle that some may be familiar with resonates with a lot of people on many levels. Recently, I encountered the scene where Marlo was in jail and talking to his associates. His rivals were throwing dirt on his name, and that could affect his entire drug empire on the outside. And towards the end of his monologue, he said, ‘My name is my name’ with a lot of emphasis, and it got me thinking about my name: Conroy Euroy Baltimore Jr.

Hating My Name

I used to hate my name because it wasn’t common. When I was younger, going through primary school, I always said my name to people sheepishly because I knew they’d mess it up. Then I would be met with statements like “That’s a strange name” or “What kind of a name is that?” I didn’t take offense to it at the time because I never liked my name, and kids are cruel. So, I had to eat those comments.

The only other Conroy I knew then was my dad, Conroy Baltimore Sr. When I was a child, I asked him why he named me Conroy because his dad’s name is Austin. Honestly, I can’t remember his answer, but I knew it was very generic. However, I remember saying to him that I didn’t like my name and wanted to be called something different, and my mom, sitting nearby, yelled at me. She was going off because she couldn’t understand why I didn’t like my name. But she wasn’t the one going through the experiences every day in school of people messing up her name.

Fast forward to when I was a teenager. I was in church one Sunday, and I met another Conroy. His name was Conroy Green. I think he was from Jamaica, now lives there, and is a talented artist (I hope you’re well, my brother). When homie told me his name, I was so happy because I found another Conroy. I don’t remember much about our interactions after that, but a small piece of me was pleased knowing there was another Conroy out there besides me and my dad.

Power In My Name

As time passed and I got into high school (shoutout to Stepinac), I started loving my name. Various people told me I had a very powerful name throughout that period. Initially, I would look at them a little funny because I felt like it was a weird compliment to receive. But in my junior year of high school, a local sports reporter wrote an article about me and called me “Lord Baltimore.” Now, that one caught me off guard. I had no idea who that man was until I researched and saw that he founded Baltimore, Maryland.

It was dope for the reporter to do that. Please forgive me because I do not remember his name. He was such a kind gentleman whenever we interacted after my basketball games. That small gesture made me embrace my name that much more. I made Lord Baltimore my Xbox handle at the time. Was it corny? Absolutely. However, it was something that I was doing for myself, and I’m glad that I did.

I never had much trouble with my name when I got to Lehigh. People loved it and told me it was awesome, and that made me thrive. Since college is about stepping away from adolescence and embracing a small part of adulthood, I began to stand even firmer in my name. When we made the NCAA tournament in 2012, I was selected to be part of the coolest names bracket, which was funny. Unfortunately, I lost to Peter Pappageorge, and with a name like that, I definitely had no chance. But it was an incredible experience to be a part of.

Origins of My Name

Now, as an adult, I love my name. My entire name has Irish origins, and it’s funny that I now live in Dublin. There’s a village in Ireland called Baltimore. This is why I say God is funny. When I tell Irish people my name is Conroy, they ask if it’s my first name, and then they tell me it’s usually a surname. While that conversation can get redundant, I also enjoy it because I like that I’m different from others.

But what’s also crazy is that even while knowing this information, people here seem to butcher my name every chance they get. I would rather you ask me again to say my name than say it incorrectly because you don’t want to feel embarrassed. For example, someone called me Clayton a few weeks ago. No offense to any Clayton’s, but come on, son, what are we doing? Sorry for the small rant, but that irked me. But I digress.

Conroy means “Wise advisor or man; keeper of the hound.” The first part makes me happy because I am wise. My wisdom comes from God and my experiences growing up in the city. Moving abroad has afforded me a particular type of wisdom I can continue sharing with others as time passes. And for those who lean on me for council, I hope that I’ve never led them astray. The second part is interesting. It comes from the Irish surname Ó Conaire, meaning “keeper of the hound.” The “hound,” in this instance, is the world around me.

If there’s one thing I love, it’s the world around me. I have a strong sense of purpose because I live a blessed life and I’m actively living it out every day. I’m grateful that I’m able to because I couldn’t imagine my life any other way, and there have been many times I’ve wanted to give up on that purpose. But I stand firm in my purpose and the name attached to it because it gives me the strength to keep pushing. As Marlo said, ‘My name is my name,’ and mine is Conroy Euroy Baltimore Jr.

Peace and Blessings

CB

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