By Teri Bachman

This spring UC Davis awarded degrees to 7,335 students in 12 ceremonies that gave each and every graduate an opportunity to have—however briefly—a moment in the spotlight. Years of hard work culminated in a few seconds of glory when the new graduates climbed on stage, stood before classmates, families and friends, and paused to relish the announcement of their name to cheers and applause.

It’s a sweet moment that little can mar—except perhaps a mangled pronunciation. Just ask Jim McNamara and Maura Soden, professionals from the entertainment industry who for several years have been brought up from L.A. to announce the names at UC Davis undergraduate ceremonies.

It’s not an easy job. Try pronouncing, as they did at this year’s Letters and Sciences ceremonies, “Engida Demoz Weldegiorgis,” “Anupama Nichinabatlu Jagajeevan,” “Yohannes Habtemariam Gebrekidan” or “Nwamaka Chikaodinaka Agbo.”

“So much depends on us reading those names right,” says McNamara. He can see on a graduate’s beaming or cringing face whether he’s read it right or wrong. Fortunately, they seldom get it wrong. Both are experienced sight readers. Soden has been an actress for two decades, appearing most recently in Desperate Housewives and Criminal Minds after a recurring role on Passions. McNamara has done voice-overs for thousands of radio and television commercials, in addition to writing and producing commercials and industrial videos with Soden.

Soden speaks five languages, McNamara three, and both come prepared—having reviewed the lengthy list of names and consulted pronunciation guides and even, in some cases, their ethnic acquaintances for help.

Maddy Rehrman, commencement coordinator for Letters and Science who started bringing the readers here some five years ago, can’t speak highly enough of their abilities. She remembers when faculty read the names: “Some of them did it with ease; others just struggled over the names. It was painful sometimes, not only because of their inability to pronounce correctly but also because they would read with deliberation, so the ceremony just dragged on.”

McNamara and Soden read the names at a steady clip and have trimmed an hour off the ceremonies. An additional benefit has been a marked increase in decorum at the events, says Rehrman. Students aren’t as restless and have less time for shenanigans—like sailing tortillas

Frisbee-style or bouncing beach balls across the room.

McNamara and Soden work as a team, with one reading the names while the other prescreens them.

Here’s the drill:

The students are asked to write their name on a card and add, if they think it will be helpful, a phonetic version. As they step on stage, they hand the card to McNarama (if it’s Soden’s turn to read). He looks to see, first, if the written name is legible and, second, whether the pronunciation is clear. If not, he has an opportunity to ask the graduate for clarification, which he’ll whisper to Soden, who takes the card and reads the name into the microphone. After a few dozen names the two switch places.

“Poor penmanship is probably our worst nightmare,” says Soden. That, and students with easy names who, trying too hard to be helpful, provide a phonetic version. “Like ‘Ann Miller,’” says Soden. “They’ll divide it 27 different ways. That can be very confusing.”

Some apparently simple names are similarly challenging. Should Andrea be pronounced An-DRAY-a or AN-dree-a? Is it Ep-STEEN or Ep-STINE?

Then there are the pranksters—the kid who has written “Bobby Hi Mom Anderson” on his card, or worse. They catch most of those, but, notes McNamara, “Sometimes we just get into the rhythm of it. I could hand Maura ‘Tomatoes Pears Barley’ and she’d read it—but very, very well.”

This June the two did six ceremonies over four days, reading over a thousand names at some of the events. And they’re happy to do it.

“The kids are so excited,” said McNamara. “It is really a nice moment to be up close to so many people who are so positive about their future. We’re close to kind of a miracle.”

And when confronted by a truly impossible name, they always have an out: have the grad read it himself. They’ve had to resort to that only once, at this year’s morning L&S ceremony, when they were stumped by a card-long Hawaiian middle name (or could it have been perhaps a very elaborate “Hi Mom”?). The student happily said it himself into the mike, prompting laughter and applause all around.