Personal Narrative: What My Name Means
I was supposed to be named Rachel. It was a compromise, my mother told me, from what my dad had picked: Raquel. Growing up, I had a friend named Rachel that was nothing like me: soft, composed, and the sweetest smile. As it is hebrew, the name comes from the biblical name meaning “O Beautiful One” or “female sheep”. While this is nice and all, it was much more fitting for my friend. Never could or would I pick the animal the sheep to describe myself.
My name means messenger. Originally from old english, a page is someone who carries information from one place to another. When I researched my name origin as a child, I felt stuck by that definition. The messenger isn’t important. I was trapped between the source and the receivers which were what …show more content…
Currently, I am enrolled in the School of Communication; a place where the channel, or path of the message, means something. How a message is presented is equally important as the content itself. So as a communicator, my name no longer fell short of having purpose. Along with my major, I have a minor in Spanish because I can’t stress how much languages fascinate me. How do certain tongues says different words and create the same ideas? There a many ways to say the same thing in one language, let alone two. As I have deepened these interests by learning more about them, I accumulated a trait. A trait that supports my name and gives it my own meaning. However, this realization didn’t come easy to me.
In elementary school, I hadn’t yet found my name’s significance. Like most kids, I ran into trouble my name. I would mistake the teacher for calling my name when she would say aloud, “paaage…64 in your history book,”. My middle school gym teacher one day grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around. I looked at him questionably then he said, “ya get it?” Turning the page was never funny until I learned how to laugh at myself. That’s one of those things children never understand, because it just feels mean, which is why I sympathize with Esperanza. With age, things can be seen in a larger and deeper
My name means messenger. Originally from old english, a page is someone who carries information from one place to another. When I researched my name origin as a child, I felt stuck by that definition. The messenger isn’t important. I was trapped between the source and the receivers which were what …show more content…
Currently, I am enrolled in the School of Communication; a place where the channel, or path of the message, means something. How a message is presented is equally important as the content itself. So as a communicator, my name no longer fell short of having purpose. Along with my major, I have a minor in Spanish because I can’t stress how much languages fascinate me. How do certain tongues says different words and create the same ideas? There a many ways to say the same thing in one language, let alone two. As I have deepened these interests by learning more about them, I accumulated a trait. A trait that supports my name and gives it my own meaning. However, this realization didn’t come easy to me.
In elementary school, I hadn’t yet found my name’s significance. Like most kids, I ran into trouble my name. I would mistake the teacher for calling my name when she would say aloud, “paaage…64 in your history book,”. My middle school gym teacher one day grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around. I looked at him questionably then he said, “ya get it?” Turning the page was never funny until I learned how to laugh at myself. That’s one of those things children never understand, because it just feels mean, which is why I sympathize with Esperanza. With age, things can be seen in a larger and deeper