The United Nations Declaration of Rights of the Child entitles each child to a name. Naming children shows that parents at least acknowledge their existence and care enough to distinguish them from everything else in their world. There are shelves of books devoted to the subject of names, especially the critical choice all expecting parents must make when deciding their children’s names.
I certainly can’t recall the process my parents went through as they examined those first ultrasound images, but I’m sure they never intended for me to make a separate name for myself.
I feel almost guilty about spitting on their weeks of deliberation. After all, my parents named me after a princess. I can console myself that it was an accident I have no way of undoing.
The first day of kindergarten at Roberts Elementary School was an ordinary, almost boring, day for me. Since my birthday missed the grade cutoff date by two months, my parents enrolled me in a preschool head start program so that by the time I entered Roberts, I was well acclimated with school routines. Many of my less experienced classmates who had trouble adjusting to their new surroundings cried for their parents.
I sat on the rug and toyed with a stray piece of yarn, waiting for the end of the day so I could finally watch Arthur on TV. My teacher, Mrs. Davis, comforted the other students before taking role. In my preschool class or whenever I met strangers, my parents introduced me as “Cissy (pronounced see-see)” but I was all alone on that day. I couldn’t hide behind my mom’s legs or burrow under my dad’s oversized polo. When Mrs. Davis called my name, she hesitated before guessing the pronunciation.
“Cissy?” she said.
I didn’t know what to do. On one hand, I’d been taught not to talk back to the teacher, but on the other hand, I didn’t want my name mispronounced. Then, as I sometimes do now, I shut down when I most needed to assert myself. I decided to remain silent. For the rest of the year, Mrs. Davis called me Cissy and so did my classmates. From that point onward, I introduced myself to new people as Cissy but my parents and old friends continued to call me “Cissy”. My two names marked off the public and private sectors of my life, two identities given my the people who surrounded me.
Many people think of a “sissy” as someone who lacks conviction and self-confidence. When Mrs. Davis first called my name, I couldn’t muster the courage to correct her. In that moment, I defined myself as a “Cissy” both literally and figuratively. I began this essay by discussing the value of names within our world. You might wonder what benefit I could possibly have from such an embarrassing mispronunciation of my name. Though the symbolism might seem too perfect, I understand now that I learn from the mistake that gave me my name by becoming more confident. In that regard, my name might have a different sort of meaning for me than the one we usually consider.
I believe that each person has the opportunity to define their own identity. I believe we must seize that opportunity, or allow others to tell us who we are.
This is a very powerful piece the deep analysis of your name was so meaningful and engaging. I thought that your post had a great capturing first sentence that personified the importance of names. Later in the piece the conflict of self identification was evident and finding yourself within the conflict. I connected to your “this I believe” as well my full name is Isabella (my mother is very proud and loves my full name) however I never really liked the full pronunciation. So I decided to go by Bella in elementary school. My mom gets upset when I make reservations with the name Bella but I identify so heavily with the name it has become me (if that makes sense). Your analysis during the last paragraph was very eye opening and meaningful, it is crazy how a mispronunciation of ones name can change ones outlook. I completely agree with seizing the opportunity. I felt the energy of the piece had a nice flow and the description of your first day in ms. Davis’s class allowed me to have an accurate picture.