As a child, my school library was my haven—a magical place filled with endless adventures and characters waiting to befriend me. It was here that I nurtured my love for reading and writing, immersing myself in the power of words. One day in second grade, as I innocently signed my books out, my library card had my name written on the back and the librarian noticed the “I” instead of the conventional “E.” She said “I” is for boys and “E” is for girls, are you confused? and laughed, I felt different and out of place. Little did I know that this simple detail would lead to years of shame.
The comment gradually chipped away at my self-confidence. I began doubting my uniqueness, feeling embarrassed about my name. The joy I once felt in the library was overshadowed by anxiety about my name whenever I went to the school library I was faced with the same comment by the librarian.
I hated my name and wrote it with an “E” throughout my entire academic year resulting in a lot of problems when applying for college and applying for financial aid. For a very long time, my family was unaware of what happened until one day during my freshman year of college, when the financial aid officer needed my mom’s signature. While we waited for the issue to be rectified, I told my mom what the school librarian said to me in second grade, my mom affirmed my name was spelled correctly and added by giving my name an “E” would give it a completely different sound in Spanish. She encouraged me to go back and write my name with an “I” and reminded me that my name was a special part of who I was.
As time passed, I realized that my name was a badge of honor, a symbol of my identity. It wasn’t a flaw to be hidden; it was a piece of my story that made me who I was. I decided to wear it with pride and not let the opinions of others define me. In professional settings or dating it became a good conversation starter. The experience of being teased about my name fueled a desire to be more compassionate toward others and make sure to pronounce people’s names no matter how different or difficult it may be for me. I learned the importance of kindness.
As I was deciding on a name for this blog it felt important to tell this story and this is why I wrote my name with the conventional “E”, it was an intentional decision. My name, once a source of pain, became a source of pride. I realized that it carried the stories of my ancestors, my heritage, and my dreams. Each time I wrote it with an “I,” I felt a deep connection to my roots and a sense of empowerment. My name now had a deeper meaning, as my mom’s name is Francisca, and would go by Francis for short. When my mom died in 2021, I began to feel even more connected to my name in honor of her and regretted the many years of shame.
Being teased in second grade for my name spelling was a pivotal moment that shaped my perspective on self-acceptance and embracing individuality. Through empathy, family support, and the strength to rise above adversity, I learned to cherish my name as an essential part of who I am.