Descriptive Speech

Decent Essays
When I was six years old, my father would take me his frequent stops to Walmart every week. One could imagine how repetitive the car ride would be so as a way to make it a little more thrilling, I would entertain my father by asking him facetious questions. These questions ranged from subjects like, “ Why is the sky blue?” or “ Are there bathrooms in Heaven?” No matter how childish the question, my father would always have an elaborate answer that left me with more questions. However, once I asked my father about the origin of my name, he just answered me with four simple words: We just liked it. Recently, I’ve tried to bog the mind of my mother and try to understand where she got the name “Taylor Ashley” from. “ So, you just liked the name. Like there isn’t a story behind it,” I asked over the sounds of my fellow Tuskegee classmates. “ I’m sorry but there ain’t no story behind it. I just always like the name Taylor, baby.” My mother always liked the name Taylor, so much so, that when she was little she wanted the name to be her own. My mother’s birth name is Tawanda which to her is deemed as a “ghetto” name. I never really understood why she would want to give up a name that left a certain twang on your tongue after saying it. The only way I could comprehend her reason for this was the fact that my mother desired a life outside of the New Orleans St.Bernard projects; a life that offered her more than week old lunch meat and flying roaches as roommates. A girl with the
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