Unknown 1, 2, 3, 4...

I've always been terrible at remembering people's names. Faces I can remember, but names? Forget it. It always takes me a good two or three times hearing it to actually be able to put your name to your face. But yesterday at work, I was assigned a task that made me realize the importance of names, and made me vow to pay closer attention to people's identities.

I was given about 20 discs filled with photos of homeless people in the Greater New Orleans area. In each photo, the person held a white piece of computer paper. On this paper was supposed to be their name. My job was to rename each file name with the name that appeared on the piece of paper. Simple task, right? Well, that's what I thought. But there was one problem, when someone couldn't say their name, didn't know their name, or couldn't write their name, the paper was blank. I had to label these files as "Unknown."

These photos were taken by Unity's Outreach Team. This team goes into New Orleans's 38,382 abandoned buildings during the day, searching for signs of life--mattresses, cans, cigarettes--and returns between the hours of 10 p.m. and 2 a.m. to the places where they think a homeless person might reside. Once found, they approach the person by declaring who they are, and that they are there to help. Most of the time, the person is willing to comply, and praying for help. Because they are without addresses or phone numbers, the only way to reach them again is to take a photo of them, and search for them when housing is available.

A name helps. Matching a photo to one of 9,165 homeless people in NOLA is an incredibly difficult task, and some of these folks remain nameless in the registry: "Unknown."

As I continued to type "Unknown" over and over again, I stared into the eyes of the people in the photos staring back at me. These people had stories, they had emotions, and once, they had a name.

I thought about all of the things that I can be identified with: my address, my phone number, my name, my social security number, my college i.d., my credit score, my bank account, my license number, my birth certificate, etc. All of these numbers and letters and words I've been forced to memorize--that I've often complained about memorizing--all correlate to the name "Catherine Elsby."

I have never before thought about what is hidden between the 14 letters in my name, but it's definitely a world of information. It defines me, gives me my identity, and allows me to be located and contacted if I'm ever needed. What's hidden between the seven letters in "Unknown" is despair, hopelessness, sadness, and ambiguity.

So, next time I learn a name, you best believe I will pay attention, because a name does not only get your attention when it's called, it defines who you are in society, and gives me an easier way to find you when I need you.