‘Father’ a title earned through responsibility, support and love

Generic father and son image from Jim's editorial

By Jim Ludlow, Founder, The Good Government Institute

Recently, I found myself thinking about something I had never really noticed before: how common honorifics and titles are in everyday life.

At two recent events, I spoke with a senator, a commissioner, a representative, a judge, a university president, a provost, and several deans and professors. Each was formally introduced with proper titles. Yet in every case, I addressed each of them by their first name. No one corrected me. No one seemed offended. In fact, the conversations appeared easy, respectful and human.

Later, something about those moments stayed with me. Once I began paying attention, I realized how many honorifics quietly fill our lives and culture. President. Vice president. Senator. General. Judge. Doctor. Professor. Officer. Coach. Pastor. Reverend. Mayor. Detective. Sir. Ma’am. Even king remains part of our daily vocabulary. New titles that a culture seems to admire at the time emerge periodically, like billionaire and influencer.

I had simply never stopped to notice their sheer number and cultural pervasiveness before. It was something previously invisible but quietly normal to me. This awareness of titles has been heightened by the constant political attention surrounding us today.

Growing up, the rules surrounding titles were pretty straightforward. Every adult was Mr. or Mrs. First names were generally reserved for children and close family friends. Addressing an adult by a first name felt improper, even disrespectful. Titles created formality, but they also created clarity. You understood your place in relation to others and they understood yours. Also, even as a teen, I would have been instantly reprimanded by my parents if I crossed that invisible but real line of social respect.

As life moved on, titles did not disappear; they multiplied. Teachers, pastors, coaches, doctors, officers, professors, and many others entered our lives. These titles reflected role, responsibility and trust. A teacher was not simply another adult but someone who helped shape young people. A doctor carried years of training and expertise. A pastor held moral responsibility within a community.

These were and continue to be essential roles in helping us grow and succeed. Acknowledging respect for the title, the position, and the person was generally well deserved and easy to do. The title explains the role. But the name affirms the person. Personally, except for very few titles, I’m most comfortable calling people by their first name only. However, out of deep-rooted respect, I still call my seniors Mr. and Mrs.

I also am aware that this common “social communication system” is not uniquely American. Most societies, historically and today, balance status, familiarity, respect and equality in their own ways. Humans seem naturally drawn to titles because they help clarify relationships and responsibilities. They also help organize social life. They serve a purpose.

To me, the titles a culture creates show what it admires most. Many titles reflect power, expertise and wealth. Others reflect trust, responsibility and service. Also, every generation seems to create new honorifics on its own. Yet, despite all the public titles around us, the ones we hold dear are the deeply personal ones used within families.

The titles we hold on to most tightly aren’t the public-facing ones at all, but the private and personal ones we use in our daily lives. Nowhere is this clearer than in family life. Within families, titles remain powerful and unquestioned. We have mom, dad, grandma, granddad, aunt, uncle, brother, sister, cousin, and countless family nicknames that become deeply meaningful over time. These are not empty formalities. They are anchors. They tell us who we are to one another.

I have had various titles throughout my career and life. Almost everyone has called me Jim and still does. I get the occasional sir, boss, buddy, and pal. But to my children, I am dad. To my grandchildren, I am pop pop. These titles were never requested or granted through any official office. They were earned through presence, responsibility, support and love. For me, they carry pride, happiness and obligation all at once. They are also a daily signal that these titles mean very little without my persistent effort, duty and support. There have been struggles along the way. But the life-long journey continues to be overwhelmingly positive and enriching.

Perhaps that is the quiet truth behind all of this. The honorifics that endure most strongly in our lives aren’t public ones, but the ones earned through steady service to family, friends and neighbors over time. Titles have their place. But in the end, character, reliability and love matter the most.

I am perfectly happy being called Jim. But dad and pop pop are the titles I treasure most and hope to continue earning.

This is a contributed opinion column. Jim Ludlow is executive producer of the Good Government Show Podcast and founder of the Good Government Institute, a nonprofit dedicated to fostering ethical leadership and civic engagement. He lives in Fogelsville.