There was a professor at the college where I used to work — I won't use her real name — who insisted that everyone, the president included, refer to her as "Dr. Smith."

The problem was this woman got angry and even downright belligerent if someone mistakenly called her "Mrs. Smith," or worse, used just her first name.

I called her by her first name. Once. After the tongue-lashing I received, I relented and called her "Dr. Smith."

What she failed to understand, though, was that she wasn't respected by many on campus. Just the opposite. I certainly didn't respect her. I found her to be pompous and egomaniacal.

This brings me to Barbara Boxer, a U.S. senator from California. At a committee meeting last week, Boxer scolded a brigadier general for having the audacity, the pure unmitigated gall to call her "ma'am."

"You know, do me a favor," a clearly irritated Boxer said. "Could you say 'senator' instead of 'ma'am.' ... It's just a thing. I worked so hard to get that title, so I'd appreciate it."

Never mind that the general was following proper military protocol by referring to a superior as "ma'am," the senator got her nose out of joint as if being elected to Congress requires some special skill, some special intelligence, some special talent. It does not.

With all due respect to the small handful of politicians I can actually stomach these days, it only takes two things to get elected: the ability to raise a couple of truckloads of money and the ability to win a popularity contest. One does not win respect by simply winning an election.

Don't misunderstand me. My mother made it clear to my brother and me that we were to say "yes, ma'am," "no, ma'am," "thank you, ma'am" and "please." We were to call adults "Mr." or "Mrs."

It was a lesson well learned. When I meet someone for the first time, I say "Mr." or "Mrs." until they tell me otherwise. And I even say "ma'am" to the young checkout girl at the grocery store, partly because I'm afraid if I don't, my mother will step out from behind the candy display and ground me for a week.

But what the professor and the senator both failed to realize is that you don't demand respect. You earn respect.

When I was a young reporter in Macon, I interviewed a man named Bobby Jones, an education professor at Mercer University.

We sat on a bench on Mercer's campus and talked one morning. Dozens of people, including students, walked by and nearly everyone spoke to him. But not a one called him Dr. Jones.

A few called him Bobby. Most called him B.J.

I asked him why he allowed people to refer to him so informally, and his response has resonated with me over the years since.

"Respect is not what you call me," he said. "I've been in schools where students said, 'There goes Mr. Washington, that son of a gun." Only he didn't say gun. He said a word that rhymes with my name.

"Calling me 'Dr. Jones' is not how you show me respect."

I decided right then and there that I agreed with him. I still use "sir" and "ma'am." And I still call people "Mr." and "Mrs." But I insist that everyone — no matter their age — call me Mitch.

I have a 10-year-old niece, Hunter, and an 18-year-old nephew, Tyler, who both call me Mitch. It doesn't make sense to me for their friends to call me anything else.

As a result, there are a number of teenagers on a first-name basis with me. It occasionally elicits a funny look or two from a parent. But I believe I am as respected — and possibly more so — as a lot of adults who insist on "Mr." or "Mrs."

B.J. was right. Respect isn't in a name. It's a whole lot more. Mitch would like to teach that lesson to Sen. Boxer.

Mitch Clarke is executive editor of The Times in Gainesville, Ga. He can be reached at mclarke@ gainesvilletimes. com.