Personal Narrative-I Am No Longer Isabella

Compare and contrast the ways Cisneros and Piercy feel about names in general and their own names in the Vignette “My Name” and the poem “’If I had been called Sabrina or Ann,’ she said.” Comment on the language and language techniques used.

Each of these texts all highlight the importance of identity and names, and how having a name that doesn’t fit European standards can make life in our society much harder. When your name doesn’t fit the European standards it can be harder to get a job, and you become more vulnerable for bullying. Some also allude to the idea that a name is something you must identify with as well, and that it’s a piece of you.

In summary, this reading passage talks about the relationship between one's name and his or her personal and cultural identities. Richard Crasta, the author of reading, introduces the relations between name and three types of personal and cultural identities: The cultural background, the wishes of parents, and the impressions even biases on personality. From my personal experiences, most of Crasta's contentions are plausible, yet some are subjective and obsolete.

My name makes noise. It can even have a certain music, depending on my mood” (Schey). To this writer, his name means an incredible amount of things, even if those things don’t have a good meaning. He doesn’t wish for another name, but he wants people to understand what his name means to him so the name can feel real, and he can live out his name. “I don’t wish for another name, because this one is me.

It is funny how something as simple as a name can change who you are and who you will become. I grew up as a normal all American girl with a family of eight. I had four brothers, a sister, a beautiful mom, and an amazing dad. I had a little house with a huge yard where I could run and play with my siblings and went to an amazing school where I had many friends. But one day the world stopped. I got to school, went to put up my bag and my name tag had been replaced with “Makaela Brissenden.” I was utterly confused on where I was supposed to put my backpack. I walked up to my teacher and ask why my nametag was replaced. She told me that it was not. It was simply corrected. Corrected? My last name was “Smith” not “Brissenden.” But, I did not argue. I simply put my things away

I have taken on many names, many identities in my years. I have been too many people for one man to be in a lifetime. Yet it’s hardly been a lifetime for me. Whenever I took a new name, I made it my new identity, for it was all I had and all I would ever have. I would sit and think out every small detail of my new character; I would become someone else entirely. Yet, ironically, the one name I could never remember was my true name, the one given to me at birth. For I have a true name, one that only I and the few who know me best know of. I know the sound of this name, how it feels when it rolls of the tongue, but its meaning has been lost to me. This one name, Martin Jacobs, is but an echo in my memory of a past life.

If my parents would’ve put me in an asylum people today might still be putting people with differences into asylums. I'm glad I began to end that practice while I was still alive. I also wrote many books to help explain to people the struggles that I went through and how I dealt with them. I couldn't have done it without my teacher, Sullivan or my determination to change things. After I passed away my name became a symbol of hope and meaning that you could do anything you work for and to let nothing get in your

I hope all is well. It has been two weeks since your email, so I thought I follow-up with you, give you some info for my siblings and update you about my new certification.

I was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico the perfect blend of Native American and Mexican culture. My last name has been traced back there since before it became a state in 1912. The area is as a part of me as the blood flowing through my veins. That’s where I spent the first eight years of my life, my last name was never seen as uncommon or strange. I was never the only one in my school to have the name, the phone book had page after page of Lovato’s plastering its pages. I never realized how uncommon, it was until I moved to Las Vegas, where me and my brother were the only Lovato’s amongst our peers. People would assume I was Italian, when my family on three sides came from Mexico. If my last name was Sanchez or Martinez would

My family will never be in the history books; however, I’ve been discovering fascinating facts. The discovery of a child, which grandma -mom’s side-didn’t know about it or they didn’t want us to know. The discovery of their ages on when they’ve begun working and how young they’ve begun having children of their own. They did a little bit of school and starting to work when they still were children. Finally, I resolved the mystery behind my name, from whom I was named for. All my siblings have been named after a beloved family member. So, my dad pleasing his dad gave me the name of his mistress. I got stuck with the forbidden name and that’s why my family on dad’s side didn’t like

My name is Charlotte Emily Ryan. Ryan is an Irish name, representing my strong Celtic heritage. My ancestors sought refuge in America during the devastating Potato Famine in the nineteenth century. I, too, wore my name and culture with pride until it was stripped from me in 2008. After being legally adopted by my step-father, “Mathias” invaded my title and murdered the origin story my ancestors left for me. For years, I grieved my loss and questioned my identity; who was I without my

Hearing the stories behind individuals’ names draws in an audience and makes them interested. Some people have a touching story about a family naming tradition, some people’s names were picked out before they were born, some people’s names were picked based on a remarkable trait at birth, and some people don’t seem to have any reason behind their name. Since I am one of the latter, I have envied people with meaningful names for as long as I can remember. It’s really cool that the meaning of some individuals’ names match their personalities, and some are contradictory. Picking a name just because someone likes the way it sounds is horribly boring, but it’s what my parents did. It’s intriguing, then, that the name Megan Kessen does reflect who

“It's me,” I told him, the rain coming down in a mist, “Eight words in my last name, my first name is shiny, and I’m a girl. I'm also sacrificing myself for a reason.”

Your name is your identity and how you present it to society can greatly affect your life and the way you live. After reading both passages, I have concluded that the relationship between a person’s name and their personal acceptance with society is a complex matter and depends on your culture and language with which you were raised.

To me your name is a memory that you should forever hold on to. It is your direct link to the past, present, and future. It is your heritage and it is how you should be remembered. She argued that birth names were as bad as brands on cattle. I wrapped her response around my brain until it cut off circulation. I couldn’t help but pass out in exhaustion and frustration. Questions dancing a deadly tango in my head. I could no longer think rationally like Leeann, soon all my thoughts and ideas were processed like Batman. There was something in this nickname that I rebelled from. Fighting a civil war within myself, attempting to be the victor. This isn’t what I signed up for when I came to college.