Roots

Today I stray from exposing unlikely super heroes to talk about where I come from. I tend to take simple things for granted. For example I forget that my curls are a genetic gift connecting me to my father and my father's mother and so on. So too do I forget that my name is the first gift my ancestors shared with me. Names can be a road map to your past, your roots.

Literally my full name means pure, new village, land exposed to the sun. My mom chose not to change her name when she married my dad. Rather than complicate her daughter's lives with a hyphenated last name (thank you mom) she and my dad compromised. My mom would pick our first names and we would take our dad's last name. So there explains the "pure" and "land exposed to the sun" translations of my first and last name.

My mom's choice to keep her maiden name when she married my dad had little or nothing to do with feminist principles or dislike for my father's family name, and everything to do with her love for her paternal family. Since I share in this deep love I am grateful that she chose not to exclude my sister and me from carrying this name. Rather than give my sister and me second names as middle names (which I have never fully understood the purpose of) she gave us "new village," - the N. that stands between "pure" and "land exposed to the sun."

While I experienced periods of resentment that my middle name was not generic like Nichole, or feminine like Rose, as I got older I began to appreciate the things that made me unique. With maturity the fortunate realize that in a world of 6 billion people it is what makes you different that keeps you sane.

As a child I purchased a name card that prescribed the origin and meaning of my first name. "Pure" was a word that packed a lot of meaning in catholic school... some of which I did not want to be associated with in the midst of puberty. Pure and prude to me were interchangeable and quite honestly it couldn't have been closer to the truth. While I longed to be a rebel in the conventional sense - lying to parents, smoking behind the church, breaking curfew to be with boys - these things were not comfortable for me.  I took my time to experience all of the above, but later than some of my peers.

Unsurprisingly, in my early teens, I was known for being somewhat pure and often wanted to break out of that box; but my name carried more truth than I understood at the time.  Now as an adult the word "pure" has taken on a meaning that I am proud of - a purity of mind and soul is something I strive for. As for my middle name the literal translation of "new village" means little to me in comparison to how privileged I feel to be a part of the "new village" family. I carry my last name proudly. "Land exposed to the sun" is meaningful because my father and my father's father were farmers. My dad now is a gardener - not by profession but at heart. While I know little about our ancestors, it would appear from our Northern Italian name that land and sun were important to them. In my own life I have always held the sun in high regard - whether it was my 4th grade self considering rainy Fridays as bad luck or my present overwhelming desire to reside where the sun shines for most of the year.

My name, my full name, is a talisman I carry with me. It connects me to my past and present while in essence guiding my future.