Personal Narrative: Where I Got My Name

A person’s name is their most important characteristic and is often comprised of hidden significance and centurial “hand-me-downs”. When I was assigned to research my name, I had never thought of the importance of the name my parents had given me. As a child, I always found it annoying when my peers turned to snicker at me each time our church’s music minister asked for the congregation to stand and sing “Amazing Grace.” Each time I heard the song “Mary Had a Little Lamb”, there was always someone near to ask, “Hey, where is your lamb?” After conducting research, though, I began to find little things that made me more appreciative of my name.

Madeleine. According to my parents I didn’t look like a Madeleine. Even though my younger sister, who looks quite a bit little me, is named

“My Name” by Sandra Cisneros is a short excerpt from her book The House on Mango Street (1984). In this excerpt, Cisneros narrator is a girl named Esperanza, who is telling us that her name reminds her of a lot of negatives things, including who she inherited it from. Esperanza is trying to convince us that her name is a terrible name, which is built up of negativity and bad history. She state that she was named after her great-grandmother, who was born in the Chinese year of the horse, which they have in common, and is well known for her wild customs which lead to her feeling sad and lonely all her life. Esperanza specifies that her name sound beautiful among Spanish speakers, but to non-Spanish speakers her name is pronoun funny “as if the syllables were made out of tin and hurt the roof of your mouth” she says. She indicated that she would like to baptize herself under a new

Most people have a story about how their parents decided on their name, especially those of us who have less common ones. Mine is fairly dry; my parents looked through a book of names and decided that “Maizie” was charming and sweet and would fit me well. My sister’s story, however, is slightly more intriguing. Cleo Arden Seidl, born on August 3rd of 2001, was named by me, Maizie Regan Seidl, when I was just two years and nine months old.

My grandmother's name was inspired by her father's mother who was also called Maria and died days before she was born.

To produce this book, I asked not “What you are going to name your baby?”, but rather “What is your name? How does it make you feel? Who named you? Why did they choose that name? Would you change

My mom was a reader. She was a slow reader, but a reader nonetheless. Her favorite book to this day is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty White. The main Character’s name is Mary Frances Nolan. My mom decided then that my name would be Frances. Well, that didn’t work because my dad didn’t like that name. So anyway, my mom also loved a set of children’s books about a badger named Frances (she is an elementary school teacher), and the badger’s little sister’s name was Gloria. I was named Gloria after the little sister, or I was named after Gloria Estefan if you ask my dad.

For my saint and Confirmation name I chose Saint Anne. Saint Anne was a very holy woman and was the mother of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the grandmother of Jesus Christ. Her name means grace and in Hebrew it also means Hannah.

In English, Jarin indicates the strength of God and that name is for a boy. Tasnim conveys heavens waterfall, and Nishat express’s liveliness or energy. My first name originates from America, but my middle and my last name comes straight from Islam. My first name does not describe all that much, even though I am proud of being Muslim, but to be honest, I am not all that religious.

When I was born, my grandma and my dad wanted to name me Reea (some old indian actress I think). My mom suggested the name Gurrose. My grandparents liked it, but they also had their pride so they didn’t let go of Reea. They ended up naming me Reea Gurrose Kaur Gahla (although Reea was a part of my name, everyone called me Gurrose). Then, 3 years later, we came to Canada and although my name was beautiful, a lot of people had trouble pronouncing it.

They named me after the old Rita tree that our village honored, because my hair was the same color as its leaves in the fall. Bright red and obnoxious; the all in your face kind. My mother thought it suited me well because it was like me...obnoxious.

My family felt like picking out a name for me as the first child was exciting. They had

A name is not just what you’re called, it is who you are. It is what you stand for and ultimately defines you as a person. Growing up, I used to think my name did not fit me and that nothing that my name stood for had anything to do with me. Now that I am older, I understand the real meaning of my name and how the traits that are connected with my name relate to the person that I have become and continue to develop into. My name represents who I am and who I plan to be.

As I asked my parents regarding where my name came from, they said my first name Maria was suggested by the midwife who happen to be my grandmother to acknowledge her handwork. My second name Ronalyn, was derived from the name of my father which is Roland. But there are other meanings where my name came from.

Instead, my maiden name, Maltempo, complicated and unique, in Italian means bad weather; my brother used to come home from school, upset and angry at my father, for kids were teasing him, but personally I never