My name is Phillip Wesley Briscoe. I’ve always hated the name “Phillip”; but this was how my family, friends, and my home town knew me. In the second grade, I tried to get people to call me Wesley. I thought Wesley had more panache; Phillip Briscoe was dull. No one called me anything but Phillip and I remained dull. In high school, the issue was heightened because there was another Philip. Not only was he “white” but he was already in the “in crowd”. No one harassed him; I had to work hard for recognition and a level of acceptance from my white classmates. I was never in the “in crowd” but gained a passable level of acceptance but I was always “Phillip”, that “smart colored boy”. On the other hand, I was always “Phillip” at Meyers Chapel A.M.E. (African Methodist Episcopal Church).
The summer I graduated from high school (GBHS ’63), the Argonne Rebels Drum and Bugle Corp. traveled to Miami for the American Legion National championships. Along the way, I got my ass kicked in a Greyhound bus station in Montgomery, Alabama. My butt-kicking at the hands at three “good old boys” made national news, and my parents got a copy of a memo that Bob Doles sent to someone promising a further investigation into the matter. I’m still waiting…
Shortly thereafter, I enrolled as a freshman at Kansas State College of Pittsburg. I had no reservations when I went to college; I’d hoped that I’d move on from “dull Phillip” but that didn’t happen. I wanted a new life. Phillip was asked to speak to several groups about getting my ass kicked in the “terrible South”; I spoke at times to unsympathetic ears. To make matters worse, there now was another “Philip”. A black Philip, arrogant but popular. I pledged Kappa Alpha Psi fraternity; I helped the frat’s grade point average but I remained so dull that one of the “big brothers”, Charlie Smith, made my life hell. The rednecks had already kicked the shit out of me, so getting beat by Charlie was inconsequential. The second semester I became a Kappa active and “fuck” Charlie Smith. I was still dull Phillip.
In the spring of my freshman year and all of my sophomore year I experimented with writing poetry. Now, “Phill” was born. On the college level, I got some recognition as a fledgling poet. I found some recognition without getting harassed or getting my ass kicked.
The military didn’t count because I was just “Briscoe”, I had no objections because in the military we all were in the common pot. I became a permanent party at Fort Sill (teaching elementary math and map reading). I befriended my former drill Sargent and his wife. The wife, Dru, and her friend, Frances, verbally confronted me, “Boy what’s wrong with you?” The two sisters spent the summer trying to loosen me up: I got laid that summer which helped my self-image and I’ve never objected to being called Briscoe.
After a shaky return to civilian life, and a mild revolution sojourn in poverty programs; I ended up in Seattle as “Phill” (Note: 2 “L’s)”. I worked as a professional for more than 40 years as l “Phill”.
This summer I had the opportunity to spend almost 3 weeks in Kenya. On my first night in the village of Mulundi, we introduced ourselves and our hosts could not understand the name, “Phill”. My colleges tried to help, maybe it sounds like fill, pill, etc. After a frustration several minutes when they couldn’t comprehend such a name, I said” Phill” is short for Phillip. The mother’s, Leah, eyes twinkled, there was a biblical reference for Phillip. As we discussed my African-ness there was no problem of me being an African and given my age I should be an elder. An elder commands respect and my name should be Phillip. “Phill” is for children which obviously I am not a child.
I returned to Seattle with this conversation at the forefront of my mind and I was reminded of a story that I had heard about the actor “Laurence Fishburne”. Supposedly, Larry Fishburne was working on Broadway with the great actor, Roscoe Lee Browne, who reminded Fishburne that now that he had attained not only some popularity but he also was being recognized as an accomplished actor; therefore, he was no longer the child actor, “Larry”, but an adult with accomplishment, thus he should be Laurence. In that vein, I am Phillip.
On the other hand, as I go dully forward I will remain Phill for my friends (including family).