The importance of using the right name

An article in the Times-Union of Jacksonville from May 25, 2025 was titled, “Don’t you ‘Sweetie’ me!” by Paula Span. The article was about “elderspeak.” It cited examples of how caregivers speak to the elderly in an overly familiar way or as if they were children. They are not called by name but rather are called "sweetheart” or the like. Elderspeak may be in words or in tone. Experience bears out that elderspeak makes situations worse.

This article triggered a memory of an important learning experience I had 35 years ago as a

volunteer chaplain at a small nursing home near the church I was serving. A church member and I visited there every Wednesday afternoon.

One Wednesday, the staff asked me to visit a new resident, a reclusive woman who had a private room at the end of the hall. They didn’t know what to do with her. Her door was always shut. She eschewed the staff’s attempts at cheerfulness. I knocked tentatively.

I cautiously approached the small woman with a gray braid down her back as she sat in a chair by her window, a worn sweater around her shoulders. She sat looking out onto the woods across the road. When I entered, she did not turn her head. That was the beginning of my friendship with Margery Austen Ryerson, who was nearly 100 years old.

After I learned her name and that she used to paint, I looked her up at the library, the preferred search engine at the time. She was a Post-Impressionist painter, famous for her portraits of children. She had an art degree from Vassar and studied at the Art Students League of New York in the 1920s with the famous artist, Robert Henri. It was her class notes that became the book, "The Art Spirit," which has inspired artists around the world for a century. I often carry my underlined and highlighted copy around with my art supplies, as do many artists I know. Her work is exhibited in the Smithsonian and she has been represented by important galleries.

Self portrait, Margery A. Ryerson, 1886-1989. Undated.

When I explained to the staff who she was, they didn’t believe me. All they knew was she was cranky and would snap at them for speaking too loudly or calling her anything except Miss Ryerson. I learned she had a unique hearing issue. Her hearing got more acute as she aged. She was sensitive to noise, which contributed to her desire for seclusion. How she ended up in this small place, no one seemed to know.

I was able to help the staff learn to speak to her softly and to call her by her preferred name long before the term “elderspeak” was coined. It was best for them to be as brief as possible with her care. It helped, a little bit.

She indulged my interest in art. I had to be careful not to pepper her with questions. It made her sad to talk about art because it was her whole life and she had stopped painting when she couldn’t hold the brushes. I knew it was time to leave when she turned her head back to the window.

At the age of 101, she was moved to a nursing home in suburban New York that I assumed was closer to a relative. It was a sad day for me when I showed up to visit and her door was open. Fortunately, the family let the home know when she passed away the following year at age 102. I attended the memorial exhibition of her work at the Armory in White Plains, New York that was held several months later. It was a huge event with hundreds of artists and other New York notables in attendance. I kept the multi-page color program for years.

There is an ageist assumption that a person is not competent because they require daily living assistance. This is not an excuse for elderspeak. If the person has memory challenges, they should be called by a respectful name or the name of their preference. Studies have shown that incidents of resistant behaviors decrease when staff are trained to use appropriate language. The answer to difficult behavior is not control, but kindness; not elderspeak, but empathy.

Now that I am getting perilously close to being old myself and because I have a family member in long-term care, I am sensitive to the issue of language. I am aware of how much it means to respect someone’s personhood no matter their circumstances. Often we have no idea who this person was or what experiences they have had. We can assume they have been through more than we will ever know. They may no longer be able to express it, but it is in there. It is up to us to grasp a bigger picture.

Neuroscience says our brains light up when we hear our names. No other words have the same effect. Our names carry identity, culture, and heritage. Learning someone’s name, pronouncing it correctly and remembering it promotes dignity and respect and is a building block in developing positive relationships.

What I learned from my relationship with Miss Ryerson informed my ministry for the next 35 years. I remain grateful to her for allowing me to visit. Generations of artists learned the art philosophy and techniques of Robert Henri because Margery Austen Ryerson took good notes in class.