The one who said, “Call me by my first name—or not at all.”

THE ONE WHO SAID, 'CALL ME BY MY FIRST NAME—OR NOT AT ALL.' Follow for more insights into the moments that shaped us.

We all remember those first days. The crisp air of possibility, the weight of expectation, the hushed reverence for hallowed halls and the minds within. You arrived, bright-eyed and ready for the rigorous intellectual sparring defining our academic journey. Then, there was that one professor. The syllabus laid out formidable challenges, reading lists were epic, and you braced for customary, respectful distance. But amidst introductions and course overview, they dropped it. "Call me by my first name—or not at all."

It hung in the air, a subtle seismic shift in unwritten rules. Was it a test? An invitation? A deliberate subversion of traditional power dynamics? For some, it felt awkward, almost sacrilegious. For others, it was a breath of fresh air, an immediate signal this class, this learning experience, would be different. It wasn't about titles; it was about ideas, the rigorous pursuit of knowledge, a shared intellectual adventure. They challenged us not just academically, but personally, redefining mentorship and dialogue.

This wasn't just a quirky affectation. It was often the hallmark of a mind so confident in its own authority and the value of its subject that it needed no formal shield. These were the professors who fostered genuine engagement, demanding we think critically, not just regurgitate. Their classrooms became spaces of true intellectual equality, where respect was earned through reasoned argument and insightful contribution. Years later, navigating boardrooms and building legacies, we recall these pivotal moments, the quiet disruptions teaching us how to lead, listen, and truly connect.